IMAGINE that you are a bird.

A little bird, flying across the 7 big continents and the 4 great oceans.
Tired, you slow down as you are hovering over what looks like a seashore.

A beach.

Something catches your eye.

Lowering yourself, you realise that there are trails of footprints embedded in the sand. They are still quite visible; they must have been left not too long ago.
You look around quickly, alert to the possible presence of the humans whom you've grown to be wary of.

Seeing no sign of them, you release a small sigh of relief from that tiny beak of yours, and you turn back to examine the trail of footprints with your puny eyes.

Not daring to go too close, for fear of the complex traps that have been made by the superior minds of those you once were slave to, you realise that it is a pair of footprints, trailing North, towards the sea.

Your animal instinct instructs you to follow the trail, and you do so, as you imagined two persons, barefooted, walking side-by-side.

After some time, the pair of trails combined into a mess of footprints, which resembled something, but your small brain is unable to inform you that the 'mess of footprints' actually formed a letter.
You look at the sea. It is low tide. The waves are calm, not threatening to wash away the 'mess of footprints', even though they are so close.
Something in the 'mess of footprints' caught your eye. The people who left the footprints also left a message. You shook your head in exasperation.

Haven't the humans heard of the great quote, 'take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footsteps?'

He got up and rebuked the wind
and the raging waters;
the storm subsided,
and all was calm.
"Where is your faith?"
he asked his disciples.

You are able to read out the message left, 'Here is our faith'. Pleased with yourself, you smile at the uncany fact that the birdshow classes that you took while you were still attached to the Bird Park actually did you some good.
You wonder what it means; you wonder what the humans, who were here not too long before you came, did while they were here. You think hard, and soon gave up.

You would never have guessed that something horrible happened just hours before you came; you would never have guessed that something amazing happened too, just hours before you came.

A change in the breeze startle you. High tide is coming. Even for a bird like you, 'Food, Peace, and Shelter' are the most important. You look around, but realise that there are no trees around that you can possibly use as shelter. In a panic, you fly East in a hurry, without caring that the high tide will soon wash the footprints away.