The Octopus

There was, and there was not, a time when the Raven left the tightrope behind and took to the skies. One day, she flew to the coast, eager to taste the salty air. She arrived as the sun began its slow ascent, its light rippling across the water in gold and silver streaks.

She found a cluster of rocks further out at sea and perched upon them, taking in the grandeur of the morning, the shifting colors, the endless potential of a new day. As she watched, her keen eye caught movement in a nearby tide pool. At first, it was nothing more than a shadow among the stones, perfectly blended with its surroundings, as if the sea itself had taken form.

Curious, she leaned closer.

As the creature moved, its shape changed fluidly, its eight limbs sweeping across the ocean floor with effortless grace. It mirrored the tones of the water, shifting from deep indigo to sandy gold, an artist painting itself into the world around it.

"You are so elegant and vibrant!" the Raven exclaimed. "You must be an artist."

The creature stilled, then turned its center toward her, black eyes unblinking.

"Hello, Raven," she said. "If you gave me a brush, I would use it to catch my next meal. I can create ink, but only to escape a predator. If you locked me in a jar, I would find my way out. I use tools that artists use, but not to create. Only to survive."

"I see," the Raven replied. "You know who I am, yet I do not recognize you."

The creature shifted again, her form subtly changing. "What a compliment. But I am an octopus."

"If I had your gift, to transform, to navigate the sea, I would share it. You could dance, perform magic, bring joy simply by existing as you are," the Raven said.

The Octopus tilted her head, considering. "That is not my purpose. I dance when I must survive. I am a magician when I need to escape. I am a problem solver, resourceful and precise. This way of being has kept me alive. This is the way to live."

The Raven considered this perspective against her own. "I do not see living as something limited to survival. Color, expression, beauty, and stories create connection. Art has its own power, it can outlive us, shape the world, leave a legacy."

"Life in the sea is about survival. I am a shapeshifter, a hunter. I refine my craft to be efficient, to be unseen. I imagine life as a bird is the same. You must be clever with your resources, cunning to escape predators. Where does dancing, magic, and color fit into the life of a Raven?"

"There are more ways to exist," the Raven said. "Creativity allows for innovation, legacy, and collaboration. A world that is only calculation and survival is too narrow for me."

The Octopus hesitated, then nodded. "Innovation," she echoed. "Innovation is valuable, so long as it is practical."

The Raven smiled a genuine, reassuring smile and said, "that, too, is true."

© 2025 Sarah Dooley. Story and images by the author. All rights reserved.