Pip stood at the garden edge and stared at the far side. Sunlight turned the flowers gold. A blue butterfly fluttered past his nose.
He took one step forward, then another. The butterfly landed on a dandelion and stayed for a moment. Pip walked toward the unexplored half of the yard.
Something rustled in the bush. Pip froze and took a step back. A ladybug crawled out, slow and calm.
The butterfly flapped toward the path ahead. Pip followed, his tail held straight and high. He reached a small puddle — wet and wobbly.
The butterfly dipped low over the water like it was checking for rocks. Pip hopped on one paw, balanced, and landed with a soft plop on the dry side.
Pip reached the tall wooden fence — the border of the whole garden. He pressed his nose against the slats and sniffed. The butterfly bumped gently against his head.
The butterfly fluttered upward, just out of reach. Pip crouched, tail up, and leaped over the fence.
Pip landed on the other side and looked back at the garden he had crossed. The butterfly circled once and rested on his head. He sat tall and watched the new world.