By seven the flowerbed already sat in a quiet ring. The asters waited in a circle, each head still closed, as if the morning had not yet given permission to shine.
We asked at the kiosk. "They used to burst all at once and startle the bench," said the woman with the watering can. "Now a petal says hello to the can, nods to the slats, and only then opens exactly one ray. The rest of the star stays folded until its turn."
The park keeper pinned a card to the fence. Visitors may look, but please do not count the points aloud. The school is small, the bench is shy, and one ray is the whole lesson.
A day later the same can came back for a second pour. The petals greeted it, the bench received its nod, and the bed, which had been practicing its courtesy, opened one clean star on the first try.