Junno’s Reed-Key Race — Every evening, Junno tucked a stubby reed key under his wing and led the toy-bark boats through the marsh channel. Read the full story →
Every evening, Junno tucked a stubby reed key under his wing and led the toy-bark boats through the marsh channel. The key looked like a chewed stick, but it had been cut from the first cattail where Junno ever heard the flotilla’s welcome whistle. He wanted to steer the boats past the lily pads before the herons rang dusk. Then one day, the water began slurping backward with a muddy gulp—the old sluice gate had jammed open.
Because of that, the boats spun toward the bramble drain, bumping and clacking like loose teeth. Because of that, Junno shot between cattails, his webbed feet kicking cold ribbons of water, and jabbed the reed key into the narrow slot beneath the gate. “Hold, little key!” he quacked. The marsh answered with a wet thunk, and the current turned soft again.
At last the flotilla bobbed into place behind him, exactly in the lane where he knew every ripple, reed shadow, and frog-plop by heart. Next time you see Junno among the cattails, can you spot the channel that welcomed his stubby reed key?
