The Circle No One Claimed — Before sunrise, Vera paddled her small reed boat across Mirror Pond, dipping a brush into berry dye and touching seven tiny marks to stones along the shore. Read the full story →
Before sunrise, Vera paddled her small reed boat across Mirror Pond, dipping a brush into berry dye and touching seven tiny marks to stones along the shore. She wanted the late cranes to find the safest bend before nightfall. Mist smelled like wet grass, and every drip from her oar made a hollow plink. No one waved from the hills. That suited Vera; a good path did not need applause.
By noon, rain had rinsed the stones clean. Vera only smiled and set new marks where the bank curved, beside cattails that rattled softly in the breeze. A pair of swans glided close, their wings rustling like folded paper. “Did you lose something?” Vera whispered. The swans bowed their necks together, and the pond suddenly held a second rainbow beneath the first, joining shore to shore in one bright ring.
Vera saw it then: her washed-away colors had not vanished. They had slipped into the water, showing the swans where to wait and the cranes where to turn. She tucked her brush away as the evening birds crossed the circle no one had claimed. If you follow the rainbow down into its reflection, can you spot where Vera’s quiet marks are still shining?
