The Sparrow Who Blocked the First Lamp

At dusk, Suining peeked out of Leafhaven Cottage's low door holding a small wood chip and a sharpened twig. She wanted to watch the park lamps light up one by one and carve the first page of her own observation notes. Doumi hurried after her: "I'll be the lamp counter!" Taisheng, by the door, opened his mouth, glanced at Suining, and only said, "Stick to the thick part."

The two followed the cracks in the bark, went around a fallen leaf taller than Doumi, and sat where the branch flattened out. Below, enormous shoes thudded along the path and faded away. The pond darkened to grey-blue.

Just as the first lamp was about to glow, a sparrow landed beside them with a soft thump—a breathing brown hill at their size. It tilted its head at Suining, then at Doumi, puffed up every feather and plopped down, blocking the whole view. Doumi leaned left; the sparrow shuffled left. Doumi leaned right; the sparrow shuffled right. Suining shook with held-in laughter.

The lamps came on. All they saw was a ring of light leaking around the feathers. The sparrow shook itself and flew off, revealing a whole row of lamps already lit.

Back at the door, the wood chip held no lamp marks—only a lopsided round sparrow. Doumi puffed his cheeks and tucked his neck to copy its fluffed-up pose. Taisheng laughed first, and Suining laughed so hard she hugged the wood chip to her chest.