Jason was unafraid

when Jason first came he came empty-
handed. he came not being Greek, not being
able to traverse the wide sea, and only other-
speaking a fine German, that under ran his
careful

English. Jason did not liken his
unheroic courage to the mockingbirds that
could handle the rain, could build
nests unafraid in the field. but it was so. Jason
was not of the sea and better for it, he
came of the finest names, he rose
and by the window seemed

to fly. when it was spring and Jason
had been, not Greek, not a fine sailor, for
a time, he said that he had once
stood by a coppice of trees on a grey
field, and it had rained, and he had stood there
for some time watching the small
birds ascend relentlessly to the

grey sky. he said they flew better in the rain,
and Jason did not think himself unafraid.
but it was so. Jason had a grand name,

and when he first came no one said
that he was Greek. no one said that
he was a fine sailor. he was as brave as
a mockingbird nesting in the rain and
alone in the furthest field