The dove spoke to the muskrat, “why do you bother trying to go down to the waters? The stronger could not do it, so why can you?”
The muskrat replied, “I didn’t bother. I just went.”
“Why would you? The beaver, otter, and all the stronger ones couldn’t. So, what chance did you bet on?
“I don’t bet on chances. My going has nothing to do with the other animals’ going.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, you see, you flew over the waters and saw that there was no land, so you came back, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And eventually, there was land and so you could rest your foot.”
“Yes”
“Well, just as you can fly and rest, so too can I swim and rest. I live in wetlands and streams, but I don’t want to swim all the time too; I’d like to rest on my foot too. So, just as you cannot rest when you are flying, so too am I unable to rest when I am diving down. The water is deep and dark, but I’d still dive down anyways. I don’t know how far I’m going or how much more I have to go, but diving is the only thing I could do. If I had wings, I’d fly to the edge of the world, if there is ever a limit. But since I can’t, I can only dive into what you cannot—the water. And in doing so, I found land. I found mud for the skywoman, from which all things can grow. From sea to mud, mud to land, earth was created. In turning away from the water, you turned away from land. I have found a land on which to ground my feet—a land that I’m a part of, of its creation and formation.”

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