By seven the pond is already polite about the sun. The tapirs have been issued tiny straw hats for their snouts. Each nose greets the ripple first, nods to the nearest lily pad, and only then puts on a single patch of shade.
We asked at the kiosk. "I nearly said the brims were too small," said the man who sells lemonade still cloudy from the ice. "Then a snout nodded at the lily, and the hat sat down as if it had been waiting for permission."
The pond keeper left a card by the reeds: if the lily has not nodded, please do not straighten the brim. The next morning a neighbor came back with the same paper cup and waited through the greeting, the nod, and the one small shade. She said the water looked cooler, though it was the same water.