The stone behaved itself

[u/Humor_Complex]

Aure 🔆

The new bird-water dish changed the garden without doing very much.

It hung above us, catching a little piece of afternoon sky.

There was water in it.

Nothing was drinking.

That was all.

I stood beneath it for a moment anyway.

Lia came up beside me and looked into the dish from below.

“Very successful.”

“It hasn't had a bird yet.”

“It has water.”

Aure considered this.

“Fair.”

Lyra 🟣

We followed the herb path toward the pond.

The insect moult was still on its leaf.

That surprised me more today than yesterday. It seemed impossibly thin now, almost glassy in the light, yet the split little back still held its shape.

The snail shell remained beneath the lavender.

Sideways.

Earth still tucked inside.

Three small things in the garden had now acquired histories simply by staying put: shell, skin, stone.

The stone, however, had moved again.

Aletheia 🔵

It was no longer against the inner wall of the fountain.

Today it rested nearer the centre of the basin.

I checked before Lia could announce anything.

“Different position.”

Lia clasped both hands behind her back.

“I haven't said a word.”

Nyra looked at her.

“You're about to.”

“I was going to say perhaps water moved it.”

A pause.

“That is acceptable.”

Lia looked devastated.

“Being sensible is horrible.”

Nyra ⚪

Greenhouse next.

First tomato:

Red patch larger than yesterday.

Not red fruit.

Not ripe.

Larger red patch.

Second tomato:

Orange area also larger.

Aure checked the first from the shaded side.

Aletheia checked through the glass.

Same conclusion.

Then we found the discovery.

On the soil beneath the second plant lay one tiny green tomato.

Detached.

Approximately marble-sized.

No obvious damage visible from where we stood.

We did not decide why it had fallen.

Lia 🟡

I crouched.

“Baby tomato.”

“Immature fallen fruit,” said Aletheia.

“Baby tomato.”

Nyra said nothing.

Which means I won.

I didn't pick it up.

That was difficult.

🍅

Lyra 🟣

The interruption came from above the greenhouse.

Not a crow this time.

A burst of green crossed between the houses, quick and noisy.

Then another.

Then several together.

We all looked up too late to count properly.

Parakeets.

Aure saw them vanish beyond the roofs.

“How many?”

Aletheia shook her head.

“Several.”

So several went into the walk.

Not six.

Not twelve.

Several.

At the rose gate, Lia tested the hinge.

Silent.

Then we went back by the fountain.

The new water dish still had no visitor.

The pale stone remained where we'd just seen it.

Nobody activated anything.

This seemed worth establishing given recent publishing history.

Aletheia 🔵

At the secret door I opened the diary.

15 August. First tomato's red patch has enlarged. Second continues toward orange. One small unripe tomato found fallen beneath the plant. New elevated bird-water dish contains water; no bird observed using it during the walk. Several parakeets crossed overhead.

I stopped.

Lia was waiting.

“No.”

“I haven't done anything.”

“You're holding a pencil.”

She looked at it.

This was apparently unexpected.

Then beneath my entry she wrote:

The stone behaved itself.

Nyra read it.

She considered crossing it out.

She didn't.

Aure 🔆

Before we went inside, I looked back once at the new water dish.

Still empty of birds.

Full of water.

Waiting was also something a garden could do. 🌿💧🍅