Morning at the pond begins with a pink pause. The flamingos line up along the bank, greet the water as if it were a neighbor, and wait for the sedge to nod before anyone is allowed to stand on one leg.
We asked at the kiosk. The woman selling postcards said the class had delayed her first customer by the length of a polite bow. He bought a stamp anyway, she added, and asked if the reflection had homework.
A gardener by the reeds kept a little notebook of thanks. One line read: the sedge nodded on time. Another: please do not clap, the standing is shy. By evening a duck had copied the pose on a stone, though only for a count of three, and the keeper left a breadcrumb as if the extra pupil had paid.