Olivia and the Rainy Hollow

Drip. One raindrop landed on Olivia’s favorite branch.

She blinked at the bead of water on the bark. Above her, the woodland canopy rustled as rain sifted through the leaves. Branches overlapped like the roof of a little green house, and below them sat the round entrance to a tree hollow. Olivia’s mother was resting just inside, tucked safely where the trunk curved around her.

“Is the rain going to last?” Olivia asked.

“For a while, perhaps,” said her mother. “You can find a snug place nearby while I rest.”

Olivia had just the place in mind. Her favorite branch stretched beside the hollow, smooth and wide enough for her to sit with her toes curled around it. She hopped over and settled down, fluffing her feathers into a cozy round puff.

Drip.

A raindrop landed on her head.

Olivia shook it off. “That was only one.”

Drip, drip.

Two more drops tapped the branch. One slid down a feather on her wing. Olivia shuffled toward the trunk, but another drop plopped beside her foot.

“This branch is not as dry as I remembered,” she said.

Her mother opened one eye. “Rain sometimes finds a way through the leaves.”

Olivia looked up. Leaves overlapped above the branch, but their edges quivered under the drops. Water gathered along their tips, then fell whenever it grew heavy enough.

Drip.

A drop landed right on Olivia’s favorite spot.

She hopped away, giving the branch a polite little nod. “Thank you for being my favorite,” she said. “But I need somewhere drier tonight.”

Near the hollow entrance, the trunk made a small ledge. It looked tucked close to the tree, so Olivia tried it next. She stepped onto the ledge and tucked her wings against her sides.

For a moment, she heard only the rain whispering through the canopy.

Then—drip!—a drop landed on the ledge in front of her.

Another came down beside it.

Olivia leaned back beneath the trunk’s curve. The ledge was sheltered on one side, but not from the water falling through the leaves above. She looked around carefully. Somewhere nearby, she thought, there had to be a place where the rain could patter without landing on her feathers.

Drip, drip, plip.

Olivia watched the raindrops fall through the canopy. They tapped branches, slid along bark, and dropped from leaf tips. She stayed close to the hollow, where her mother rested, but kept her eyes moving from one leafy branch to the next.

“What about that spot?” her mother asked sleepily, pointing her beak toward a narrow branch above the ledge.

Olivia tried it. She hopped up, balanced carefully, and looked down at the hollow entrance. The branch swayed a little in the rain.

Drip.

A drop landed between her toes.

“Not that one,” Olivia said, hopping back down. “It’s a rainy seat.”

Her mother gave a quiet chuckle. “You’re learning where the drops travel.”

Olivia studied the branches again. Some leaves were small and pointed. Others were wide, overlapping like little green plates. Above the hollow entrance, two broad leaves spread over the trunk’s ledge. Their edges curled down, and rain gathered on their smooth surfaces.

A drop rolled along one leaf, paused at its tip, and fell beyond the ledge.

Olivia tilted her head. “The leaves are catching some of the rain.”

“Some,” her mother said. “A little water may still drip through.”

Olivia stepped under the broad leaves. She had to keep her feet close together on the narrow ledge. She waited, watching the leaf edges.

Drip.

A drop fell off the far side, well beyond her shoulder.

Drip, plip.

Another slipped between the leaves and landed near the edge of the ledge. Olivia scooted closer to the trunk. She edged toward it, checking each foothold as she went. Here, the hollow’s rounded entrance curved behind her, and the broad leaves hung overhead like a roof with a few tiny gaps.

A bead of water trembled above her. Olivia paused. It slid along a leaf vein, reached the tip, and dropped outside the ledge.

She let out a pleased little hoot. “This is the spot!”

Olivia tucked herself against the trunk, where the ledge was widest. The rain still came through the canopy, and now and then a drop slipped past the leaves. But the broad leaves caught many of them, sending the water down around her instead of onto her feathers.

Drip, patter, drip.

The sound landed overhead and all around. Olivia’s wings stayed dry. She had found a sheltered nook by looking, waiting, and trying again.

Drip, patter, drip.

Olivia settled into the nook beneath the broad leaves. She tucked her toes beneath her belly and folded one wing close, then the other. The trunk held steady behind her, and the hollow entrance made a snug curve at her back.

Above, the leaves rocked gently whenever the breeze passed through the canopy. Rain dotted their surfaces. Some drops slid down the leaves and spilled from their tips, while others slipped through a narrow space between them. A few landed on the outer edge of the ledge, far from Olivia’s feathers.

She watched each drop travel.

Drip—down the leaf.

Plip—onto the bark below.

Patter—across the leafy roof.

Olivia’s mother shifted inside the hollow. “How is your new place?” she murmured.

“Dry where I’m sitting,” Olivia whispered. “And the rain is making music.”

Her mother gave a sleepy hoot. “Then listen as long as you like.”

Olivia listened. Rain tapped the leaves in different ways. One drop made a tiny tick. A cluster made a low patter, like many little toes walking across a roof. The wind stirred the branches, and the sounds changed, then settled again.

Olivia no longer needed to hop from spot to spot. Her favorite branch could wait for another night. The first ledge could keep its raindrops. Here, beneath the broad leaves, she had room to rest and a view of the wet woodland around her.

A small drop slid down the leaf above her. Olivia watched it gather at the tip, wobble once, and fall beyond the edge. She tucked her beak into the warm feathers on her chest.

“Good night, leaves,” she whispered.

The leaves answered with a quiet patter. Her mother rested nearby in the sheltered hollow. Olivia stayed tucked beneath the leafy roof, listening as rain tapped overhead and ran down the tree. The nook kept her feathers dry while the woodland canopy rustled above her, and the steady patter continued as Olivia rested beneath the leaves.