310: Lilypad 💧🪷
Daily Image created using Copilot (Anime AI Art)
🪷 The Pond
The rain had come unexpectedly, soft and slow. It was the kind of drizzle that didn’t soak you, just reminded you that the world still breathed. Misha crouched by the edge of the pond, her umbrella forgotten on the grass behind her. She watched the ripples form, each drop a perfect circle expanding outward and gently colliding with others. In the center of it all floated lilypads, emerald and unbothered, each cradling a constellation of dew.
She loved coming here after school with her older brother. While he engaged in macro photography, she would explore, observing plant lifecycles and the occasional insect, such as beetles, butterflies, bees, and dragonflies, as well as small creatures like frogs. She would get lost for hours in her bubble of wonder, sometimes drawing sketches. Or she would sit under the old oak, doing her homework or reading books. It was an everyday quiet ritual.
They had been coming here for almost a year, ever since her brother started his daily photo project for his online portal. For him, lilypads were like little altars, each one holding the sky in miniature. Misha never understood what he meant until today. One dewdrop, larger than the rest, sat near the center of one of the pads. It refracted the gray sky and the silhouette of her face leaning in. She was tempted to reach out and touch it.
The pad trembled slightly as another raindrop fell nearby, sending a ripple that nudged the lilypad just enough to make the dewdrop roll, slowly, deliberately, toward the edge. The girl watched it fall. It didn’t splash. It joined the pond as if it had always belonged there. Misha stood up, brushing the wet from her knees. The rain was easing now, the clouds thinning. She looked once more at the lilypad, now bare, and whispered, “That would have been a nice photo.”
Then she turned and walked back toward her brother, who was busy shooting a time-lapse. The scent of wet earth trailed behind her.
