The tragedy rests in the black sand of the coast. The cloudless and emotionless morning sky, the first witness of the fatal event. The oil has covered the beautiful feathers that once helped the death bird fly, its unanimated body lies twisted above the ground. The polluted sand has no trace of activity, not a single footprint in that vast extension of its space and the peaceful ocean that can only produce a shy little wave is now painted black. The only thing that these dark waters can reflect is the vague contour of the nearest dock.