The Map Made of Flower Paths

Between the tall hedges, the little paths kept disappearing. One ended at a wall of ice, another circled through sunflowers, and a third vanished beneath rustling autumn leaves.

Flauschi discovered an old spiral staircase of roots leading to a stone viewing terrace. Puschel carried the travel basket as they climbed together, step by step. The glass flower shimmered quietly on its green ribbon.

From above, the garden looked completely different. Four great sections lay like petals around the season wheel: pink spring, golden summer, orange-red autumn and icy-blue winter.

Puschel“The garden is a map!” Puschel cried. Flauschi pointed to four overgrown lines running from the outer gates towards the centre. Only one glowed faintly beneath the vines—exactly where the glass flower pointed.

They memorised the route and climbed down again. At the end of the shining line, they found the jammed wheel and the four signs on its hub. Puschel set down the basket. Puschel“Now we know the way.” Flauschi studied the silent spokes. Flauschi“Next we must learn which way the seasons wish to travel.”