Corin Counts the Canal Bells — Before the first horn rolled over the water, Corin pressed one chalk mark onto the warm canal wall. Read the full story →
Before the first horn rolled over the water, Corin pressed one chalk mark onto the warm canal wall. He had set himself a challenge: count seven lock bells without running ahead to the viewing rail. Below, ropes creaked, engines hummed, and a container ship nosed forward so slowly it seemed to be thinking.
Bell one. Bell two. Corin’s toes bounced inside his sneakers, but he stayed by his marks. Palm leaves clattered in the salty breeze. Trucks crawled along the service road, and the lock gates opened with a wet, giant sigh. By bell six, the ship’s bow had slipped between the walls. “One more,” Corin whispered.
Then a wide shadow brushed over his chalk marks. Corin looked up. A harpy eagle glided above the canal, crossing the same narrow path as the ship, but in silence. Bell seven rang bright and clear. Corin finally ran to the rail, laughing, because his waiting had counted two crossings at once: steel on water, wings in sun. Next time you see the eagle’s perch, can you trace both journeys from Corin’s first chalk mark?
