By seven the pond already knew which ripple was ready to be a dock. The hippos greeted the water, nodded to the nearest duck, and only then offered their backs as tiny piers. Each guest took exactly one passenger, and the next in line waited until the reed had finished its little bow.
We asked at the kiosk by the path. "I thought the lilies had grown extra landing stages," said a man with a paper cup. "Then the first hippo waited for the duck to nod, and the rest of the line copied the pause. My bun went cold from looking down."
The park keeper pinned a note to the bench: visitors may watch, but please do not tap the backs. By noon the pond already knew one quieter way to say after you, and a sparrow on the railing practiced waiting for exactly one ripple.