They couldn't say how many years had passed since the first time he stroked her soft gray feathers with his beak and she lowered her head gracefully to accept his caress. The world around them cycled from white to green and back again as they found each other time after time on a branch, in a tree top, near a feeder. Each had found an enduring center in the other as they rode the circles of time. Every new wheel of seasons was like the first time Father Sky stroked Mother Earth with his beak and their love filled the earth with children.