Jasper Shares the Bell-Tide — Every day, Jasper raced the cliff water and bumped the old brass buoys with his chin: bong, bong, bong! Read the full story →
Every day, Jasper raced the cliff water and bumped the old brass buoys with his chin: bong, bong, bong! He wanted the biggest, brightest echo for himself, the one that made his ribs buzz like drums. Salt stung his grin, gulls cried overhead, and the lighthouse watched from its striped hill. Until one day, a tiny crab in a keeper’s cap popped from a tide crack and shouted, “Wrong bell, big fellow!”
Because of that, Jasper followed the crab through foam as thick as whipped cream to a hidden buoy wedged under fallen rocks. Its clapper was stuck, and without it, the lighthouse glass would not turn at sunset. Because of THAT, the fishing skiffs far beyond the dark blue hum of the sea began circling, unsure which way led home.
Jasper dove, shoved, and blasted a fountain through the crack. Clang! The trapped buoy rang so loudly that every loose buoy answered, then every gull wheeled, then every skiff horn whooped back. Joy swelled too big to keep under one whale’s smile, so Jasper rang the whole coast home. If you spot his spray below the striped hill, can you hear the bong, bong, bong?
