Sunlight poured into the shallow pond. The young tadpole flicked through the bright water between reeds and pebbles.
Then the young tadpole stopped so fast the water shivered. A tiny piece of tail floated away like a ribbon. “My tail!”
Shh-shh, whispered the reeds. A dragonfly zipped past in a blue flash. The young tadpole spun in a worried circle.
The young tadpole swished harder. And harder. And harder still.
But the water only made the loose end wobble like a funny little flag.
The young tadpole hid beside smooth pebbles. Ripples bumped the mud. It felt safer not to dart out into the open.
First, the young tadpole curled into a loop. Still stubby.
Next, the young tadpole wiggled backward. Still stubby.
Then the young tadpole scooted under a lily pad. Still stubby.
But then—plip-plip! Two tiny legs kicked from behind. The young tadpole popped out so fast it bumped a reed.
The young tadpole pushed with those new legs. Boing!
Up shot the young tadpole from the water. Wet slap! It landed on a lily pad.
For one still second, the young tadpole stared at the pond below. Dragonfly wings buzzed overhead. The biggest change yet made it gasp.
The young tadpole bent low. Pushed. Leap!
Leap-leap-leap! From lily pad to lily pad, the young tadpole bounced across the sunny pond.
The last little bit of tail trailed behind. Then it was gone.
The young tadpole laughed at the patter of water drops and the springy pad underfoot.
Now the sunny pond felt like a brand-new playground.
