You can read part three here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/?p=2948
Little Stream and Wee Lily Pond bounced amicably against each other as they were rushed along in Big River’s mighty flow. “So, how’d you get here anyway?” asked Lily. Little felt her waters swirl with pleasure at the burbling of Lily’s Pond’s voice.
Oh, she replied. I’m so very happy to meet you! She felt her waters vibrate as words tumbled over themselves in an effort to be heard. I…I was trickling along like always and I heard a noise. Closer and closer it came, louder and louder it roared. Then I was right beside the rush, with a small grassy bank in between us. I…I couldn’t stop flowing. There was a dip in the bank and I just kinda got pulled into it. She looked around meaningfully. Into this. Glancing in the direction of Wee Lily Pond’s voice, she asked How….I mean, you’re a pond. You don’t flow. How did YOU get into this mess?
“Well,” Lily Pond began, “You’re right, ponds don’t usually flow. It started one early moon when there was just a sliver of light in the sky. I was just chilling out, resting after a long day of sun warming me through and frogs and fish massaging my shallows. I remember there was a breeze—just enough to ruffle my surface. Then I heard some noise, like you described. At first it sounded like a storm wind whipping around the trees. It got louder and louder. I figured on a hurricane, you know? I was waiting for the rain”
“I like rain,” she continued. “It fluffs me up and then I have more room for fish and frogs and dragonflies and ducks. But no rain came that night. Instead, the sound got louder and closer. By the time sun woke up that noise was so loud my wee waters were shaking. Then I felt a big jolt! It was like an earthquake or something. I mean, I’ve never actually seen an earthquake, but the trees near where I live—where I used to live— told me all about them. This huge gush of water crashed up against my banks and most of my oval disappeared! Next thing I remember, I was being pulled along with a whole bunch of other water. That was moons and moons ago, and I’ve been here since. Doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to go, you know? Far as I can tell, there are others like us in here—streams and trickles and raindrops and ponds that got grabbed up by Big River. I’ve heard parts of stories about a big flood, but it can be so hard to hear anything besides rumbling, roaring rush!”
Whew, thought Little Stream. For a pond, Lily sure was chatty! It was so good, though, to have someone to talk with. Little gathered her courage and asked the question that had been stuck tight inside her since she’d been sucked into Big River. Wee Lily Pond? Do you….umm…do you think there’s a way out of here?
To be continued…