Sakura and the Sky-Dancers
Sakura, with her bright eyes and a kimono patterned like blooming cherry blossoms, skipped through the garden. Today was her favourite day – feeding the hato, the pigeons. This wasn't just any garden; it was a secret place bursting with colours no one had ever quite seen before. The moss on the stone lanterns glowed with a soft, sapphire light, and the leaves of the maple trees shimmered in hues of emerald and sunset orange that swirled together. The koi pond wasn't blue, but a sparkling amethyst, and the water lilies floated like tiny, iridescent jewels.
Sakura carried a small, woven basket filled with sunflower seeds. As she reached the open space near a gently babbling stream, the pigeons began to flutter down from the branches of the rainbow-coloured bamboo. There was Pip, with a patch of feathers the colour of a ripe plum; Flutter, whose wings seemed to catch the light like spun gold; and little Sky, so named for the brilliant azure tips on his tail feathers.
With a giggle, Sakura scattered the seeds. The pigeons cooed and pecked, their soft feathers brushing against her hands. She loved watching them, each with their own little personalities. Pip was always the boldest, Flutter the most graceful, and Sky the most curious, often tilting his head to gaze at the fantastically coloured flowers that bloomed nearby in shades of lime green and electric pink.
As the sun, a soft lavender in this imaginative world, began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of rose and periwinkle, Sakura knew it was time to go. The pigeons, their crops full, gathered on a low stone wall, watching her.
"Until tomorrow, my sky-dancers," she whispered, bowing slightly. Then, with a happy sigh, Sakura turned and followed the winding path, leaving the enchanted garden to its peaceful, colourful slumber, already dreaming of the next morning when she would once again share her seeds with her feathered friends.
