How Umbrellas Got Flowers — Under the first fat plops of rain, a young elephant named Kavi set himself a tiny challenge: cross Puddle Lane without asking the wind to stop. Read the full story →
Under the first fat plops of rain, a young elephant named Kavi set himself a tiny challenge: cross Puddle Lane without asking the wind to stop. The lane smelled like wet grass and peppery mud, and every raindrop tapped his plain leaf-umbrella with a nervous tik, tik, tik. Kavi lifted one boot, then put it down again. Between you and me, the puddle was not deep at all—but it sounded like a lake swallowing stones.
“Just one splash,” Kavi whispered. He stepped in. Slosh! Cold water jumped up his ankles, and he laughed so suddenly that the umbrella shook. All along its dull green top, sleeping meadow seeds—stuck there from yesterday’s walk—woke from the rain. Pop, pop, pop! Tiny blossoms opened wherever the drops had knocked, bright as secrets told at last.
Kavi crossed the lane with his trunk high and his boots ringing squish-squash. Ever since that brave little splash, umbrellas in Kavi’s corner of the world have worn flowers in the rain; next time you spot the petals above him, you’ll know which puddle began it.
