The Bud That Waited
"Is it open yet?" Gus asked. Sunny sat down in the ferns. In front of them was a big green bud. It was shut up tight. Warm rain fell on Gus. Warm rain fell on the bud. Gus waited. The bud stayed shut.
Gus touched the bud. It felt warm. It felt smooth, like a stone in the sun. "Wait a bit," said the warm rain. So Gus waited. Sunny waited too. A long grey dinosaur walked by. Her feet made puddles in the mud.
The puddles filled up slow. Plip. Plip. Gus put one toe in. The water was warm. Sunny put one paw in. Sunny smiled at the warm mud. Gus laughed. Then he looked at the bud again. Still shut. Still round. Still warm.
A little cloud went over. The rain stopped. The sun came out warm on Gus's back. Steam rose off the ferns. Gus sat close to Sunny. Sunny was warm too, like bread. "Wait a bit," said the warm rain. Gus waited.
Then something moved. One green petal slid down. Then another. Then another. The bud opened, slow as a yawn. Inside were soft pink petals. Inside was warm yellow. Gus did not touch it. He just looked and looked.
A small bug climbed in. It sat in the warm middle. Gus yawned. Sunny yawned. The valley went quiet and gold. "Wait a bit," said the warm rain, far away now. Gus leaned on Sunny's soft side. His eyes went heavy.
Sunny picked Gus up. She held him like a warm loaf. Big feet thumped soft in the mud. The flower stayed open behind them. The sky went pink. Gus felt warm all over. He fell asleep, carried home through the ferns.
