Lulu sprang along the dry bushveld path beneath umbrella-shaped thorn trees. A bright orange aloe flower nodded in the dust. Bees hummed among the blossoms, while blue mountains shimmered far beyond the grass. Lulu thought, “What a splendid beginning!” and bounded toward the flower.
The fallen blossom rested like a little sun beside the path. Lulu lowered the muzzle carefully, lifted the flower, and placed it inside the leaf-decorated bag. Then Lulu sprang onward, ears alert, searching for the next surprise.
A trail of silver feathers glittered through the dust. Lulu collected one beside a smooth stone, then another near a twisted root. The leaf-decorated bag now held a bright flower and two shining feathers. Lulu hurried after the trail, imagining where its story might lead.
WHOOSH! A sudden gust tore through the trees. Feathers flew from the leaf-decorated bag, and the blossom skipped across the dust. Lulu stamped at the swirling cloud and called, “Come back!” The treasures scattered beneath the thorn trees.
Lulu searched beneath the orange aloes, behind a sun-warmed rock, and along the dry path. A feather landed on the muzzle. “A-CHOO!” The sneeze launched a tiny shower of leaves into the air. Lulu blinked, then laughed at the leafy flutter.
When the leaves settled, Lulu noticed the oldest thorn tree. A dark hollow opened in its trunk. Wind rushed through it with a low, flute-like moan. Lulu thought, “That tree is telling the secret.” Carefully, Lulu stepped closer.
Lulu nudged the hollow with the muzzle. FWOOSH! Leaves, feathers, and aloe petals burst from the trunk and whirled above the path like a dancing story. Lulu gathered the treasures again, one by one, beneath the spinning shower.
One bright petal drifted toward the distant mountains. Lulu opened the leaf-decorated bag wide instead of chasing it. The petal floated inside. Lulu tucked in the feathers and stone, leaving room for whatever tomorrow might bring.
At evening, Lulu returned beneath the umbrella-shaped thorn tree. The stone, feathers, and petals became a shining pattern in the dust. Lulu told the tale aloud to the rustling leaves. “First came the flower,” Lulu said, “then the wind, then the dancing tree.”
The breeze lifted the display into a sparkling spiral. Petals flashed. Feathers twirled. Dust shimmered around the stone. Lulu watched until the last silver feather settled. Then Lulu trotted home beneath the fading gold, the leaf-decorated bag ready for tomorrow’s story.
