The garden is quiet on a cold winter morning. At the far end of the wide square, a tiny golden nut glimmers in the morning light.
Rish leans forward on the branch one step… then pulls back and tucks his beak into his feathers. The nut is so far away.
A cold breeze nudges the nut: it rolls, rolls, rolls… toward the faraway window.
Rish clamps his talons on the branch and hops forward, but his wings won't fully open. He lands on a wet branch and shakes out his feathers. "I'll try… I'll try… I'll try…"
The wind blows harder. The nut taps on the glass: tap! tap! tap! It slips off the latch and teeters at the window's edge.
Rish presses his talons tight and stretches his neck into the cold air. The square seems wider than it was yesterday, and the nut glimmers just a few steps away.
Rish leaps! The wind scoops him up under his wings… and instead of dropping him, it holds on and lifts him higher.
He crosses the whole square. The very feather that was pushed back yesterday carries him forward today. He spreads his wings and unfolds them wide for the first time: flap-flap-flap!
Rish lands on the windowsill and cracks the golden nut: crunch! He turns to look at the wide square behind him.
He munches slowly. He puffs up his feathers, tilts his head, and spots a brand-new nut at the tip of the branch.
