The Choice is Mine

‘Go away!’ I grumbled at the door again, snuggling deeper into the covers of my warm bed.

The knocking sounded again and I groaned. ‘Fuck off.’

‘I heard that!’ Rob called through the door. ‘Com’on, drag your ass out of bed or you’ll miss it!’

‘Miss what?’ I called back. ‘The bloody cold? It isn’t even dawn yet! I’m NOT getting out bed at this hour.’

I heard the door open and a second later something light fell on my covers. ‘Put them on and hurry up. Your coffee will get cold.’

It was his home, I was his guest. It would have been beyond rude to ignore him and stay in my bed. Reluctantly slipping out from my warm cocoon, I pulled the curtain back on the window to look outside. The moon light reflected off the fresh powder that had fallen through the night. The air was still and the surface of the snow completely undisturbed. Icicles hung from the branches of trees like delicate, motionless wind chimes. A fairy land. A chill seeped through the glazed glass and I suppressed a shiver, twitching the curtain shut again. What summer-loving tropical dweller volunteers to take a break in Japan in the dead of winter? I must be insane.

I discovered the bundle of pastel purple fabric my friend had thrown at me, tumbled to the floor beside my slippers. Shaking the soft cloth out, it unfurled into a thermal top and pants. Put them on? Why? A bit of overkill for indoors. I put them on anyway. There was something comforting about the texture of the fabric, like being wrapped up in a favourite blanket. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and something else warm wafted down the corridor. Smells I could not ignore. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I followed my nose to the kitchen.

Rob leaned against the kitchen counter looking at something on his phone and sipping his cappuccino. He looked up and smiled, sliding a plate of croissants across the bench to me.

‘Oh my God! They smell awesome! Where’d you get fresh croissants?’ I split the pastry apart, crispy flakes showering the plate. Lashings of butter and a generous dollop of raspberry jam. Just like mum used to do them for us when we were kids.

‘There is a bakery down the road, they do really great pastries, but I made these myself. I know they're your favourite.’

‘Thank you!’ It wasn’t until halfway through my second croissant and most of my coffee that I was awake enough to register what Rob was wearing. A thermal top like the one he had given me, just a little more worn. Matched with a pair of water and wind resistant pants, all-weather boots and thick thermal socks.

I hummed, my mouth turning down at the corners. I had clearly fallen for some sort of trick. He was not dressed for a day indoors.

Gesturing to his attire, I swallowed another mouthful of coffee. ‘What’s this about?’

‘No arguments.’ He pointed a finger at my chest.

‘I wasn’t-‘

‘Not yet, but I know you would. You are out of bed now and I’m not letting you go back. You’ve spent enough time moping.’ He held his hands up in defence. ‘I'm sorry, I know it sounds harsh. But I love you too much to leave you in this hole you’ve fallen into.’

The look on his face could have broken my heart all over again. I sighed. ‘Alright. What’s the plan?’

‘It’s a surprise.’ He looked at his watch. ‘But, we need to get going or we will miss it. You’ll need your wind breaker and snow boots if you don't want frostbite.’

The drive took nearly two hours. Rob’s car had seat warmers though and the scenery sliding by the window was breath taking. There were very few other vehicles on the road after we left the town and its buildings behind. For long stretches, it felt like all the world was at peace and we had it all to ourselves. I hadn’t felt this at ease since my world had imploded.

The moon was setting just as the sun began to stain the sky to the east with the orange of dawn.

‘Here we are.’ Rob signalled and slowed to take the turn into a car park lined with tall pines wearing a mantle of snow. On the far side of the carpark, a wooden deck terminated in a rail that separated the area from a wide-open field covered in snow. A wooden building with soft lights stood to the far end, but it was the only structure we had seen for miles. He stopped the car in a parking spot close to the deck.

‘Where is here?’ I asked. There wasn’t much here, but the size of the car park suggested there were a fair number of visitors to the area at times. But all I could see was snowy plains. It was very pretty, I just couldn’t see it attracting that many visitors.

‘You’ll see.’

‘I hate secrets.’ I groaned.

‘You are going to love this one. Couple things. No flash photography. We can’t leave the viewing deck and we need to stay quiet.’

‘Um, ok. Weird, but OK.’

Outside the car was bracingly cold, but the thermals and the wind breaker helped immensely. I helped Rob gather his gear and a thermos of hot chocolate.

‘Lead the way.’ I gestured grandly.

He bowed and grinned. ‘Gladly. Now, over here is our one and only attraction.’

Stepping up onto the wide deck, I took in the sight of the white covered plain. Dotted here and there were tall birds, each standing stock-still on a long thin leg with the other tucked up in their white and black feathers. Their long necks turned backwards to tuck beaks under their wings. The only colour out on the plain was the beautiful red crowns atop the birds heads.

I drew breath in sharply. I stood still and stared.

‘Japanese Red-Crowned Cranes. They are protected and this is their winter feeding grounds. But wait,’ Rob grinned from ear to ear, ‘the best is yet to come.’

We set up a spot by the rail with Rob’s photography equipment, tripods and video camera. By the time we finished, more people were braving the cold and joining us on the deck. I poured cups of steaming hot chocolate ,while I waited impatiently for the promised 'best', and cupped it using it to warm my hands. The upper edge of the sun was just peeking over the tree line when he settled in to start taking some test photos and checking angles. There was some hushed conversation between the gathered people, but very little. There was an air of reverence among the few on the viewing platform. I even snapped a few photos using my phone camera.

I leaned on the rail watching the birds begin to stir as the first rays of the sun spread across the snow. I watched on, entranced by the sight. Slowly, the cranes took their heads from under their wings and shook out their feathers. As the sunlight touched their feathers, the birds began to move. But not to fly or forage for food. The first two circled each other fanning their wings and ducking their crowned heads, weaving around each other in a seemingly disorganised pattern, but always in sync. After circling each other back and forth one bird crouched and leapt high into the air. I drew breath as the leaping bird spread its wings and drifted down beside the other which in turn leapt into the air. Snow sprayed up around them, kicked up by their feet. The choreographed dance continued as a little further over, another waking pair began the same dance. First ducking and fluffing feathers and then making graceful leaps into the air.

‘Oh wow! What are they doing?!’ The sight was mesmerising.

Rob smiled, watching the birds and adjusting on of his cameras.

‘They are dancing.’

‘Oh, like a mating dance? Those are couples right? I thought for a second they were fighting.’

‘That’s what researchers thought at first. They look like they are fighting, but they never contact. And those are mated pairs. They mate for life. But if you look over on the right, there are some that are dancing alone. And the smaller one? A juvenile not yet mated. Come spring, it probably will be. But for now, it dances alone. So do the babies as soon as they are strong enough to leap.’

‘That’s incredible!’ I watched in awe. ‘So why do they dance if it isn’t a mating dance?’

‘No one knows for sure, we can’t ask them.... but most of us believe... it’s for the pure joy of being alive...’

I watched the cranes dance their beautiful choreography through tears welling in my eyes.

How much time have I wasted, dwelling on what I can’t change?

How much life have I not lived, refusing to let go of emotions that stopped having a purpose a long time ago?

How much dancing have I missed?

‘Thank you.’ I chocked out the words as tears ran down my cheeks, leaving cold tracks. I wiped at them as Rob adjusted the zoom of a camera.

‘You're welcome.’

This story is inspired by Lee Hunter's tattoo of two dancing Cranes. Cranes are symbolic of fidelity, loyalty, longevity and good fortune. But those are not the meanings behind her choice. They are her reminder to choose her attitude. I was inspired by the story of why the birds dance and am struck by what we can learn from the world around us if we stop and listen. The cranes greet the day and dance. Psychologists say we can choose our outlook on life every day. I wonder how different our lives would be if we chose to do as the the cranes do and greet the day with joy.