Morning at the fountain began with a pause no bigger than a fingertip. An axolotl drew a tiny mitten over one pink hand, greeted the ripple, and waited until the water lily nodded back. Only then did it wave, exactly once, as neatly as a neighbor who knows the difference between hello and a whole conversation.
We asked at the kiosk by the path. "They do not flutter," said the woman who sells tea and extra string. "Mitten first, nod second, wave third. If the lily has not answered, they wait. I wrote it in the notebook, but it came out as thanks."
The park keeper keeps a small sign beside the fountain rim. "The mittens are only for the fingers," he said. "Nothing hurries that was meant to stay still. The water gets a greeting, the lily gets a bow, and nobody repeats the wave before lunch."