Jory’s Snowflake Relay — Every evening, when the wind whistled like a flute through the high switchback, Jory planted his ski poles in the crusty snow and challenged himself to tap twelve star-flakes before they touched the trail. Read the full story →
Every evening, when the wind whistled like a flute through the high switchback, Jory planted his ski poles in the crusty snow and challenged himself to tap twelve star-flakes before they touched the trail. “One more round!” he called, and his carrot nose pointed up at the glittering dark. His little penguin friend, Noko, waddled behind him, clapping flippers with a soft whup-whup.
Until one day, the sky burst open with the wildest snow Jory had ever seen. Star-flakes spun left, right, and sideways, bright as tossed coins. Because of that, Jory zipped from drift to drift so fast his scarf snapped like a flag. Because of THAT, his last pole stuck deep in a hidden icy crack, and the twelfth star-flake sailed past his mitten toward the pine shadows.
Jory could have yanked and grumbled, but the joy in his chest felt too huge to keep. “Noko, your turn!” he shouted. Noko belly-slid down the bank, tapped the flake with one flipper, and sent it spinning back. Jory laughed so loudly that echoes bounced between the trees, and every flake seemed to join the relay. Next time you spot the penguin peeking in, see if you can tell which star-flake started the whup-whup cheer.
