The old man squinted at his new project. Dust gathered around his poor, wrinkled hands as he scraped at the stone, revealing what lay just beneath the surface. He was retelling an old, well-known story, older than the sky above him and known to all who could see as he did. As he searched out the pattern that the stone was pushing forward, he thought about the tale that he was honoring. It was told each year by the priestess of the snake goddess.

   “Once, before you and I, before the trees you see there and the moon who lights our way in the dark, dark night, before the land that you walk on and the sky that the birds fly in, there was only life-giving water. Water was all around; there were no locusts to ravage fields and no fields to be ravaged; there was just water, empty, with no fish to live in her. So water created snake, who is born again and again, and who can create life himself, to be her companion. She gave him the horns of a bull, that grow again and again, to show his exalted position as a giver of life. And so water and snake lived together happily for a while. But one day, snake became curious about his power to create. He tried and tried without water, but since she is the source of all life, he failed. Upset about this, but not too upset, he continued with water the same as before. But again, the curiousity came upon him, and he tried again to create, but again tried it without water to help him. Frustrated when he failed a second time, he went to water and said, ‘Water, why did you give me these horns? They are a lie.’ Water was surprised that he would say such a thing, and asked him what he meant. ‘I cannot create anything! I have tried and tried, so that I could surprise you, but it hasn’t worked!’ Water chuckled and drew him to her. ‘Oh, son of my loneliness, you cannot create without me.’ With that said, they merged and the snake created an egg. He let it float on water’s welcoming surface, watching it always, curling around it protectively while he slept. It was while he was sleeping this way that he first felt it move, and as he backed away from it, cracks appeared. ‘Water! Help! My lovely creation is breaking!’ But before water could do anything, the shell burst apart, and the lower half remained on water, becoming the land, while the upper half hung above it, becoming the sky. And so the land and the sky were born from an egg, and snake saw his creation, and loved it.”

As he finished his portrait of snake, the old man smiled and looked around him. Who wouldn’t love snake’s creation? That was why he preserved it, and would continue to do so.