After a short sleep the man awoke, made himself some tea, then began to prepare for his day. He looked at his paper from the night before and went over the pronunciation many times. He then took out his journal to take notes for himself about the previous evening and the surprises they brought. He even thought of some ideas for a story or two and decided to make notes for that as well. It would be a busy day and he hoped professor Hodgson would be available to talk with.
During his short time at University he was able to make a few good acquaintances with professor Hodgson being one of them. He enjoyed writing and had the good fortune of even receiving payment for his work. Professor Hodgson was a language expert who always had good advice on how to craft phrases into the way they should be pronounced. He was not just someone who could understand what a language would say, he knew how a language should sound. He was invaluable to someone who wrote stories about various different people.
Once the sun arose he packed up his notes, some dried bread crumbs and began to make his way to the university. The season was getting colder, but he was happy that at least this region stayed warmer as extreme cold weather had not been his friend. Once he exited his neighbourhood the city changed so quickly with some regions being incredibly beautiful. People had strived to keep nature around them making for a very enjoyable walk. The parks were very large, always busy, yet very quiet at this hour of the morning. He enjoyed the early morning silence of being out before others had woken up. Even within the city he thought that you could still find peace if you so desired to.
As he walked by the large old gothic church he stopped to watch the pigeons wander around looking for food. They were always here early in the morning, either singing from the church tops or rummaging around looking for some food from the waste that people made the day before. They were very efficient at cleaning and he noticed how they always went somewhere else to do their dirty business. He wondered why they gathered so often at the church. Were they hired cleaners for the Lord? Were they religious birds feeling a duty to keep things clean? Did they just love the height of the building and the echo of their songs it would provide across the city? It would be easier to find a mate if you are heard. Maybe they just knew that being close to people meant easy food if you were not too picky and the church was one of the busiest buildings in town. There would always be sins to atone for, there would always be the poor who loved to beg here, there would always be someone begging for a prayer to be answered and these doors were always open. Yes, it was a good choice by the pigeons to live here.
He reached into his pocket removing the bread crumbs and threw them across the ground for them to find. They immediately came running to collect the food as if they had some awareness others lacked. You could even bring your own food hidden away, sit to enjoy a good book, and they would show up and wait by your feet. They knew, they were patient, and one would find themselves eating early just to rid themselves of the gathering horde. Once the food had been consumed they would be on their way leaving you to yourself again. As he walked away some followed expecting something more so he dug deep in his pocket finding a few crumbs which he tossed at them. "That's all I have!" he said as he moved on leaving them behind. He thought that one day in the distant future he would sleep in his grave, yet he knew there would always be pigeons roaming the churches.
He arrived at the university which was quiet, but there were still diligent students and professors roaming around. In his short time here he noticed two different types of diligence. The first was the type where the student would study for all hours of the day, fearing their next exam and trying their best to help themselves and others overcome the monster of education that stood before them. The second type of diligence was those who tried to have an appearance of looking busy to those around them, yet inwardly were lazy and did not want to put the effort in to learn. This type only served its own desires, was destructive, and he had little patience for them. He approached a man sweeping leaves and inquired "Have you seen professor Hodgson at all this morning?"
Without even looking up the man replied, "I have not seen him, but if he is here then he will be at the library."
He thanked the man and began to make his way across the campus. Of course he would be at the library, it was his second home as the professor could not consume enough books filled with knowledge. He remembered the first time he met the professor was in the library as he sat there going over a language text book he heard "Not an easy read, that book, but a great one for understanding how our language is built." He looked up to see an older man smoking a pipe and smiling who reached out to shake his hand.
"I am Allan." he told him, keeping most of his name private not knowing who this man was.
"Hodgson, Professor Hodgson." He pointed at the book. "I wish I could get my students to read that one."
They spent a while in conversation as he shared his poetry with the professor. They became close and whenever a verbal mystery found its way into his heart he would go to see the professor. Although as time passed they saw each other less, he always knew he could turn to Professor Hodgson for answers.
He walked softly into the library and looked around quietly trying to find the professor. Finally catching the scent of his pipe he walked to the rear of the library finding the old man with his head buried in another book surrounded by the light of many candles. He slowly crept up behind him, looked over his shoulder to see a language he did not recognize. He spoke up "Not an easy read that book."
The professor turned to see his old friend and leapt out of his seat. "Allan!" he exclaimed, grabbing his hand to shake it. "It has been awhile, so good to see you."
While he no longer used the name Allan, he did not mind the professor using it since he had always called him that since their first introduction. "It is good to see you too. How have you been?"
Pointing down at the book he replied, "Reading and absorbing as much as I can, enlightening new students, and enjoying some of the tales you have written."
"I am glad you enjoyed them. I am working on a bit of a mystery right now and I was hoping to get your help?"
"I am always up for a good mystery, what is it?"
"It is a phrase that I heard. I am unsure if it even is a language, but I thought if anyone would know or could help me it would be you" Pulling out his paper he said "szary niebieski"
The professor thought for a moment and said "it sounds Slavic, say it again…"
"szary niebieski".
The professor stood up to look at the paper. "I think you are saying it correctly, but you have spelled it wrong, just a moment." and he was off on his search. He went over various books, taking some out, referencing others and finally settling on a rather large volume which he brought over setting it down. "Ah, here it is….niebieski means blue. You are speaking Polish my friend. Now your other word….there is no 'sh' and I don't think they make those sounds the same way…let us try 'sz'....ah hah. Your word is gray. You are literally saying 'grey blue'. That was an easy one." The professor was pleased with his speed in solving this mystery.
"Gray, blue. I wonder what it means?"
"Where did you hear it?"
"Well from a crow at my window last night."
The professor burst into laughter. "You and your talking birds, will this one too be another story?"
"No, not yet at least. It is actually a crow I have not seen in a long time and I thought he had died, yet he reappeared last night and spoke that phrase to me. I know it sounds crazy Professor, but whether I dreamed it or it was real the words were real."
"A Polish talking crow? Fascinating, maybe he was tired of all the wars and flew here to live instead. You must have lunch with me today and tell me all about it. Will you be around?"
He thought about it, then told the professor "Ok, we can have lunch." He would pass the time in the library trying to find answers for his gray/blue mystery and do some research for another story he had in mind. "What time do you have lunch?"
"Come by in four hours, I will have plenty of free time then." He paused to look at his friend, "Sorry about your troubles, Allan. It is good to see you again." He shook his hand, collected his things and departed for his classroom. Leaving the man with free time to explore the library.
When it was lunch time he made his way over to the professors classroom and they headed out to the park in front of the university to lose themselves in conversion. They both enjoyed their time together as the professor shared his tales of students come and gone, while Allan shared his tales of the heart of darkness that life always presented to him. He was a deeply emotional man and saw things in life that others missed, so he wrote tales and poems about it all. Once they were full on each other's stories they said their goodbyes and parted ways.
As he made his way back home he was pleased that he had a solution to the mystery and would be ready if his crow friend returned. Then he stopped and thought about it. How do I explain color to a crow in my language? He could not, so he decided his best course of action would be to go to a local store and buy two handkerchiefs, one blue, and one gray. He discovered this would not be so easy as those seemed to be the two colors that alluded him. About to give up, he finally remembered a seamstress who had done some work for him in the past and paid her a visit.
It was out of the way, but it was worth the visit. She had many different cloth examples and he found two that he settled on. He paid her for both then made his way back across the city and started heading south to his home. If his crow friend showed up now then he would be ready to teach him. His imagination ran wild with the various stories of how this crow came to learn this phrase, yet the answer of colors was a strange puzzle to solve.
As evening drew near he sat by the fire sipping on his tea. It was a pleasant mix of black tea with berries that he had found in a local shop and the flavor was very unique to him. He heard the flutter and heavy landing of the crow and his heart leapt within him as he ran to the window with his cloth samples in hand.
"Augustus!" the crow cried.
"szary niebieski" he cried back as he now had the crows full attention. He held up the gray cloth and said "szary", then he held up the blue cloth and said "niebieski". He then altered back and forth between them slowly speeding up his pace. "szary niebieski" over and over holding up the two clothes.
Augustus watched with his head twitching back and forth between the two colors, almost losing himself in the rhythm that was building of going back and forth. He had to stop and shake his head just so he could refocus. Back and forth with those colors…then it clicked. Those were very close to the colors on Nibelski the fox. That must be the way humans say those colors. He called out "szary niebieski" as his friend smiled and placed the cloths down.
"Yes, szary niebieski, my Polish friend." He laughed and grabbed a piece of dried meat to share with his friend. "Too bad you don't like tea, because this kind is really nice." He stopped to think about that statement then he went over and placed his tea cup on the windowsill.
Augustus looked down at the pretty vessel and saw it held a dark fluid and that his human friend had been drinking it. He hopped over and dipped his beak into the fluid. It was wonderful and had the taste of wild berries. He called out "Augustus!"
The man laughed at the whole idea. Sitting here with a crow named Augustus, drinking tea and speaking Polish. No one would believe this. "It is good, isn't it?" he laughed.
Augustus felt strange and he began to get too excited as his body started pounding. He cried "szary niebieski" and he flew off. He needed to work this out of his system, but he would return to the man tomorrow and visit more. He had the meat last time with no problems and he realized it must be the black water he consumed so he would avoid that on his next visit. He felt like he just woke up, but it was evening and he needed rest so he flew back quickly to be with his family.
The man watched the crow fly off and told him "Please visit anytime, I enjoy your company" as he took his cup to the sink to wash and rinse it. He would make sure that he would be around this week in case his friend decided to return.
Once home Augustus found that he could not sleep and his mind raced with ideas. The fox, the prophecy, the wolf. That wolf gave his life quoting the prophecy, he was sure of it now. If not for the snow arriving, he would love to fly back and talk to Garius about it all. He felt like he could fly back tonight as his sleep fled from him. As he listened to the sound of the others sleeping there he sat twitching in the night being denied his much needed rest.
In the morning he still felt skittish and started with his daily chores, helping the others, feeding, and soon he had free time again. He let the others know he had errands to do and that he would be visiting his friend. They were concerned about his trips into the area filled with humans, but this once was where Augustus lived and he was used to it all, they were not.
He wanted to bring his friend a gift for all he had done for him so he perched up high on the church and scanned the area below him for something. He waited as the sun revealed to him a shiny thing and he swooped into the bush to see it. It looked like a bug, but not a real bug, something humans made, but it was so shiny. It would be perfect for his friend so he picked it up and flew away to his house.
The man was busy with his book and pen before him, but he was frustrated with himself. He felt the need to write a story from the events that happened this week, yet he could not form a good story in his mind, then he heard a tapping on his window. He looked over to see Augustus with something in his beak. He raced over and opened the window.
Augustus set the object down and said "szary niebieski". He hoped the man would understand.
The man looked down to see the shiny object. "Thank you" he said as he picked it up. It was a pin, a golden pin in the shape of a ladybird, he had seen these in his European travels. He held it up in the light and it sparkled, it made him feel like he had just discovered treasure. "Gold bug" he said out loud as a new idea formed in his head for a story. He looked down at his friend and ran his hand down his back. "Thank you, friend."
Augustus understood and was grateful to have such a friend. They would have many good days together before the changing seasons would make him have to depart and leave his friend. They would both cherish this time they were given