Small Steps Against the Wind

With lighter luggage, they passed the old willow again. From there they followed the broad path upstream. It rose gently, leading away from the water. Grass and loose leaves moved towards them. The breeze was fresh, but it was not a storm.

Puschel“If I walk faster, I will get past the wind faster!”

He tried. The basket swung from his paw, and after a few hurried steps he had to breathe out hard. The wind was still in front of his nose. Flauschi carried the boat with both paws and walked steadily until they were side by side again.

Flauschi“I do not think the wind knows your shortcut.”

Puschel“Then I will not tell it. I am still looking for the shortcut myself.”

They both laughed. Puschel put the basket on the dry edge of the path. They stood safely on level ground and took a short rest. Flauschi asked whether he felt all right. He nodded and gently shook out his free paw.

Flauschi“Shall we try smaller steps? Slow enough that we can still talk to each other?”

Puschel“I can test that. Talking is one of my best-practised sports.”

When they set off again, Puschel picked up the basket. Instead of rushing ahead, he stayed beside Flauschi. They found a shared rhythm: a few steps, a look at the path, a short sentence. Nobody counted who passed a tree first.

At a sheltered bend, Puschel moved the basket into his other paw. Soon Flauschi needed a short stop herself. She said so, and Puschel stopped straight away. The little boat did not wobble; the note was still safe inside its hull.

Puschel“We started more slowly and still got farther.”

Flauschi“Perhaps because this time we paid attention to both of us.”

Beyond the next rise, the trees opened into brighter light. Puschel pointed ahead with his chin. He wanted a closer look—together, after their rest.