Tansy Counts the Ripples — Along the reed road, Tansy tapped one webbed foot after another and tried to count seven ripples before the family reached the tall brown cattails. Read the full story →
Along the reed road, Tansy tapped one webbed foot after another and tried to count seven ripples before the family reached the tall brown cattails. Plip, plip, plip went the pond beside her. Her brothers and sisters waddled in a loose line, and their mother hummed softly, feathers smelling of sun-warmed grass and clean water.
Tansy counted a ripple for a curved cloud, a ripple for a dragonfly’s silver dash, and a ripple for each cattail shadow lying thin across the pond. By six, her thoughts had run ahead of her feet. What if there were ripples too small to see? What if every blade of grass made one underground? “Wait,” she whispered, “I need one more.”
Then the seventh ripple arrived from nowhere—round, neat, and shining—right beside her toes. A tiny pond snail lifted its horns from a lily-smooth stone, as if it had been counting Tansy’s steps all along. Mother Duck smiled without stopping, and the ducklings marched on with the snail’s circle widening behind them. Next time you spot the reed road, can you find the place where Tansy counted one webbed foot after another?