A raven, feathers fluffed up against the cold rain, stands exposed on a Gold Street light post. The pole has been scared so many times by climbing utility men that it looks as scruffy as the raven. I risk rain spattering my glasses to take several pictures of the bedraggled bird, wishing I had disabled the camera’s feature that announces each shutter snap with a beep. Raven stops preening itself and lets out a series of sounds that mimic my camera’s annoying beep.


Aki drags me towards Gastineau Street. She is on fire to check out something carried on the wind. She remains engaged during the rest of the walk, taking extra care when patrolling the field of food shacks near the docks that are now closed for the season. While she searches the plot recently occupied by Little Manila, I try to photograph a sculpture of raven partially obscured by reddish maple leaves. Even though this raven is just a line drawing rendered in ribboned steel, then bolted to a parking garage, I wait for it to imitate the sound of someone welding together pieces of the new cruise ship dock.



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