Observing the World

Nishane sat on a smooth, grey stone, his chin propped in his hands. Professor Owl perched on a branch just above him, his large, amber eyes blinking slowly. The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the ancient oak tree, casting dancing shadows on the forest floor. Nishane had come to Professor Owl with a puzzle that had been tickling his mind like a stray feather. He had tried to make a ramp for his toy car, a grand structure of twigs and leaves, but it kept collapsing. He’d pushed and prodded and rearranged, but his car stubbornly refused to roll smoothly down his creation. He’d felt that familiar flicker of frustration, a tiny knot tightening in his tummy.

“Professor,” Nishane began, his voice a little wistful, “my car ramp… it just won’t stay up. It’s like the twigs don’t want to be friends.”

Professor Owl hooted softly, a sound like wind rustling through dry leaves. “Ah, Nishane,” he said, his voice a low, resonant murmur. “You seek to build, but perhaps you have not yet learned to *see*.”