Tarin’s Unseen Pollen Game — Under the tall wet trees, Tarin pressed his nose to a fallen log and invented a game called Follow the Smallest Gold. Read the full story →
Under the tall wet trees, Tarin pressed his nose to a fallen log and invented a game called Follow the Smallest Gold. Wherever a flower brushed his fur, he dabbed one yellow speck on bark: beside a fern curl, under a split leaf, near the cool smell of moss. He did not call anyone over. The game felt better if the forest found it by accident.
A leaf-mouse came first, whiskers twitching. Then a striped beetle rolled through the dust and carried a starry smudge away on its shell. “Keep going,” Tarin whispered, though no one had asked him to. He padded slowly, claws clicking soft-tock on the wood, leaving gold where tiny feet could choose.
When dusk turned the leaves blue, the specks began to move. They were not only pollen at all, but lantern ants lifting each dot and setting it farther along the log, making a glowing path back to Tarin’s paws. The game had quietly become a thank-you. Next time you see his nose near that leaf, see if the smallest gold is leading both ways.
