In swamp at the edge of an oak forest, lived Vilinda Vay.
And she was a dragonfly. She had big colorful and gentle
wings, through which you could see everything arround you in
blue and yelow and red. She lived in a tiger lily which
floated on the green musky water. These are usually green
unless you look at them through Vilinda's wings. Vilinda
wasn't a regular dragonfly (like those pesky incects eaten
by frogs and toes). She was a special one. Bigger, smarter
and much more colorful. She was a Tuner. Tuner is a creature
that tunes the reality, keeping the main stream of the
"rushing water of the swamp" in it's course... If it sounds
complicated or silly, let me explain by telling you about
Vay's daily schedule

Early at the morning, just before the sunrise (and in the
crowded with trees oak forest, the sun is always late to
rise), Vilinda opens her lily, which is  closed through the
night. Then, to get herself ready and in fit for the long
day, she jumps into the swamp's chilly water and cleans her
wings. Now, the wings are very important to the Tuner,
because they are his main tool at tuning. It could be very
dangerous if any unwanted drop remains on the wings.

When finished cleaning herself, she floats above the tops of
the highest oaks, until she catches the rays of the sun.
There happens the most wonderfull thing in Tuners life - the
Elementation. The color-abcent light enters into the wings
of the Tuner, and like through a prism, breaks out in
millions of colorful elements, which are spreading all
around the forest, each one finding it's place in the
painting of the nature. In other words, Vilinda colors the
forest.

Next, when the elements are all satled down, and each object
recieves its color, (that will last ten to thirteen hours -
depends on the air's temperature), Vilinda slides herself
back to the swamp, and starts to tune the sounds. You
probably wonder how a dragonfly, even so smart as Vilinda,
tune the sounds without hearing it - after all it is  well
known that dragonflys don't have ears! But a good Tuner can
feel vibrations of the air with his whiskers, so Vay does
and by swinging her wings rapidly sets the air at the right
pitch. Through the night each voice, each rustle, each tweet
is falling asllep and gets a little bit out of tune -
sharper or flater.

When the morning sounds are all singing in one harmony,
Vilinda can relax and enjoy the view. Oh, and it is
beautiful indeed! Thousands and zounds of creatures, small
and big alike, awaken to begin a new day of business and
laziness, of work and fun, playing, hunting, mating and
eating. All of that Vilinda could observe from her tiger
lily, and she did.

One of those creatures was Coffee the beaver. Don't ask me
why his name was Coffee, I have a seriouse doubt it somehow
connected to the aromatic drink. I assume it have something
to do with Coffee's Asiatic origins, from his mother's side.
Well, Coffee the beaver was very diligent (as far as beaver
can be), with strong morals and values for the hand labor
and social work duty . He believed that each creature has
it's own task and purpose in the swamp (and in the great
scheme of things), and that every individual is obliged to
commit and contribute... Those long and probably meaningful
words, he used to preach daily to the occasional listeners
that were caught in his charizma's range.

Coffee didn't knew percisly what each craeature should do,
but obvoiusly each could do something for the good of all.
Even the little bees. And whether the work was done (most of
the creatures didn't realy understood the concept of being
obligated to do anything beside surviving), or not - Coffee
always knew what he can do. As a fellow beaver he would chop
the wood with his pointy teeth, and would build a damn. I
must admit, that's another mystery for me, why they should
do that. The swamp's water were still enough with no need to
block their stream. There was no stream in the swamp at all!
But Coffee would do that, day after day as a fellow beaver.
When the collected wood would rot with time, Coffee was
ready to build a new damn. To phrase it shortly, the beaver
would always keep himself busy.

Now, going back to Vilinda, Coffee never realy understood
what was her job in the "master plan", and being so far from
the "tuning" idea (nobody knew that Tuners exist and what
they do), he just couldn't figure what dragonflys are for in
the first place... Hey, even the little bees are more
useful!

And understand Coffee - he wasn't mean or cruel or had a bad
nature - no! just certain qualities at creatures really
pissed him off. And mainly it was laziness and idleness. It
was against every Coffee's value, against his self awareness
and understanding of the reality around him. He couldn't
even grasp the meaning of these words. "How could a creature
prefer spanding his time sitting at one place, humming
disturbingly instead of doing the basic action of any
mammal, bird or incect in the swamp!". He even tried to talk
to Vilinda, but mouthless dragonfly was just sitting on his
lily and staring at Coffee with its giant binocular eyes. We
can't blame Coffee - that's the way he was grown, that's the
way his concience was formed, and eventualy, by the logical
chain of events it brings us to the last part of the story.

Days went by, seasons changed the elements from dark green
to bright white, from reddish to yellow and back and forth
and so on. One afternoon, while Coffee the beaver was
finishing one of his many damns, a unfamiliar feeling of
tireness apeared. He felt as like heavy burden was placed on
his shoulders. He even almost droped the log he was carrying
in his teeth. He knew that he never got ill in his whole
life, and hes mature mind concluded the inevitable: "I'm
getting' old...".

Coffee's last days were coming near and the subconscious
realization of something unfinished brought him to the idea
of creating something big, something meaningfull that will
last for long years, that will make other creatures remember
and apreciate Coffee's contribution. A Memorial...

Next day, he gathered all his young apprentice beavers (he
was an old and respected beaver) and gave them orders and
instructions. That much wood should be choped, that much
leaves should be brought... He had a vision. A vision of a
great damn, a damn big and strong enough that won't let any
stream consume it. "A Great Damn on the Swamp".

Busy and diligent beavers, followers of Coffee ideological
religion, were running all around chopping, carrying and
building. The Great Damn was getting bigger and more
impressive with each passing day. Once, during the work,
Coffee took a glimpse at Vilinda, and predictibly enough she
was just sitting there on the lily, blinking stupidly at his
Work. "Tfooo", spitted Coffee bitterly.

Coffee's powers were leaving him rapidly, and no longer he
could chop and build by himself. He was laying on the little
boat he builded and supervising. The Damn grew giant, and
finaly, the last log was layed. Coffee looked at his
masterpiece with pleasure.

But when the workers and amazed animals spread by the
evening to their homes, he felt like something there was
missing. Some creative detail, some touch of art... and
Coffee was an artist deep down in his soul... "Something's
missing there" he thought. And then he saw it! "Ah!" he
though. And then an "Aha!" bursted into his mind. A plan was
born. He laid down, waiting.

After midnight, when the moon rose high,  like a white plate
hanging in the sky, and the swamp finaly became silent,
Coffee sailed his boat as quite as it was posible towards
the tiger lily. When he came near it, he carefully pushed
one leaf of the lily. To his surprise, all of the leafs
opened, and he saw the dragonfly sleeping inside. Coffee got
down from the boat, and swimmed nearer. The beautifull,
colorfull wings atracted him like pair of magnets. His eyes
lightened greedily. Coffee reached his hands and plucked the
wings. The wings weighted nothing, they were lighter then a
feather. He swimmed back to the damn, holding the wings in
his teeth, and climbed up the damn. When reaching the peack,
he stucked the wings like a a flag, between the logs. Now it
was all finished oficialy. Coffee layed down and felt
asleep.
 
When he opened his eyes at the next morning, he saw the
colors around him became dim. Everything was greyish, and
black and white. The tweet of the birds and the noise of the
leafs became quiter and a bit smeared. A bit out of tune...
"So, this is how it feels to die" thought Coffee and closed
his eyes.