Pip tumbles from a high branch, spinning through the air before landing with a soft thud in the dark, cool soil.
A beetle scuttles past, its legs clicking against Pip’s hard shell like tiny wooden drums.
Pip pushes upward with all his might, stretching his little green stem toward the bright sun above.
The dirt is heavy and sticky, resisting every inch of his climb.
A big yellow flower leans down, whispering that she was already tall last week.
Pip sighs, watching a ladybug crawl over his head, her spots bright red against the gray earth.
Suddenly, raindrops begin to pelt the ground, drumming a fast rhythm on Pip’s back.
He feels the water soaking into his shell, making him feel heavier but strangely ready.
Pip stops pushing and simply sits still, letting the sun warm his leaves as they slowly unfurl into bright yellow petals.
The garden smells sweet and damp, and Pip knows he is exactly where he needs to be.