In the very great long ago Trickster Raven still sported pristine pearly white feathers which shone so brilliantly white even Sun had to cover his face to keep from being blinded. One lovely day Raven was strolling the beach turning over seaweed drifts, looking for tasty morsels. He wasn’t finding much so stopped in the warm sunshine to look out over his domain. Ahead, in the distance he beheld a form, the form of a beautiful woman only vaporous, cloudlike, and reclining on a large boulder with salmon jumping in the water all around her. Raven, being Raven, promptly shook his luxurious white feathers out and preened until he was stunningly handsome, puffed out his chest and sauntered down the beach toward the woman. As he approached she looked over her shoulder, gave him a disdainful glance and turned away. Raven, not to be rebuffed so easily approached and in his sweetest voice cooed “Heeeey, Chickie Poo, wanna go bowling on Wednesday?”

The woman simply flipped her hand at him dismissively. But Raven, being Raven and not to be dismissed so easily, in his most mellifluous voice began telling her stories (while she pretended to ignore him) and jokes and soon he had her laughing. Pretty soon he had her agreeing to a movie and dinner out. Now Raven, even though he’s quite the cad, can be immensely charming and it didn’t take much wooing before he had Fog Woman talked into marrying him. In a great potlatch with dignitaries from the whole coast attending, and mountains of food and gifts that seemed endless, Trickster Raven and Fog Woman married.

The first weeks of the marriage were blissful with the newlyweds spending almost every moment together. One day when Raven had stepped out for a breath of air he heard Fog Woman speaking to a servant. Curiosity, which is Raven’s most dominant characteristic, after greed, mischievousness and quick thinking, made him put his eye to a crack to see what was going on. He beheld his wife hand her hat to a servant and instruct him to go to the stream and fill it. The servant ran to the stream, filled the hat and promptly returned with the hat full of water. But then, before his eyes Raven saw the most astonishing thing occur: Fog Woman began pouring the water out of her hat and from the hat also poured salmon, dozens and dozens of salmon. When she set the hat down she began to prepare their evening meal of salmon, seaweed soaked in eulachon oil and coated with herring eggs, and berries. Now Raven had been pleased that his new wife was able to keep much salmon in the house, but he’d never given a moment’s thought to how she did it. This new revelation set him back on his tail feathers a bit. Nonplussed, but being Raven, hiding it well, he went back inside and just watched his beautiful wife prepare their meal with that greedy little Ravenish glint in his eyes.

Later that evening Raven decided to spend a little time with his buddies so he told Fog Woman he was going out. Sweetly she told him to have a good time with his friends. Raven went through the village to one house that was a popular hangout for the married men; they’d sit around and kvetch about their wives, swap fishing stories and try to outdo one another in everything. Well, this particular evening one of the men was complaining about his wife; pretty soon all the men were finding faults with their wives, and Raven, being Raven and not to be outdone, made up a complaint (because, certainly, she was a flawless wife) about Fog Woman. Now Fog Woman happened to be passing the men’s house at that moment and heard Ravens words. She stopped still for a moment, shook her head sadly and proceeded home.

When Raven arrived home he found Fog Woman waiting for him. She told him what she’d heard him say and Raven being Raven, he tried denying it. Well, to Fog Woman this was adding insult to injury. She quickly turned into a cloud of fog and began streaming out the smoke hole with Raven flapping along behind trying to catch her. As he reached desperately for his beautiful wife he trampled through the fire pit permanently scorching his pristine white feathers, turning them to black.

We see Fog Woman frequently; see her beauty drifting across the landscape, veiling hills and mountains. We feel the gentle moisture of her mists upon our skin and know she’s with us. And, we frequently see or hear Raven, his feathers seared black, his voice raspy and broken from swallowing the smoke and ash in the fire pit, calling, calling, always calling for his beautiful wife, Fog Woman to return to him.