A forest tale about a little otter, a winding river, and the discovery that some journeys cannot be forced.
BY LIAA KUMAR
Marlo the otter was unbelievably excited. Today was the first time he was going to swim all the way down the winding river to Sunstone Pool. It was the best spot in the whole forest, with plenty of sunshine and warm, flat rocks to lie on. All the otters would gather there in the summer afternoons.
There was just one tiny problem. To get to Sunstone Pool, Marlo had to travel down the fastest, most twisty part of the river, with plenty of tumbling rapids that raced past big mossy rocks. But Marlo wasn’t scared; he was a strong swimmer. “If I just paddle hard enough,” Marlo thought, puffing out his chest, “I’ll be there in no time at all!”
So Marlo took a deep breath and dove in. He paddled as hard as his little paws could go, straight and fast, just as he’d planned. But the river had ideas of its own. Strong swirls of water kept spinning him sideways. He kicked harder. But then a current shoved him headfirst toward a gigantic rock. He pushed back against it with all his might. The harder Marlo fought the water, the more the water seemed to fight back. It tossed him this way and that, until he was dizzy and breathless and hadn’t gotten very far at all.
“No, no, this isn’t right,” Marlo grumbled, scrambling onto a rock to catch his breath. “I just have to try harder.” So back in he went, paddling even more furiously than before—only for the river to spin him around again and again, plopping him right back where he’d started. Marlo clung to his rock, his arms aching and his heart sinking. “I’m never going to make it,” he sighed.
Just then, he spotted an old turtle drifting down the river. She wasn’t paddling at all. She floated along easily, riding the very same current that had been tossing Marlo about like a leaf.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Marlo called out. “How are you moving so easily? I’ve been paddling as hard as I can, and I keep getting pushed around!”
The old turtle drifted to a gentle stop beside his rock and gave a slow, kind smile. “Ah,” she said. “That’s just it, little one. You’ve been pushing against the river. But the river already knows the way to where you’re going.” She gave a lazy little kick. “You don’t have to force it down one straight path. Just feel where the water wants to carry you and add your own gentle little nudges along the way.”
Marlo wasn’t so sure. But his paws were too tired to fight anymore. So, slowly, he let go of his rock. He stopped paddling so hard. He rolled onto his back the way the turtle had, and he let the current take him.
And something wonderful happened. When the river bent, he leaned with it. When a rock came near, he gave a soft little kick and slipped right around it. The rapids that had seemed so scary now bubbled beneath him gently. He wasn’t battling the river anymore. He was flowing with it.
And before he knew it, the river carried him right into Sunstone Pool. His friends cheered as he drifted in, spinning happily on his back.
“Marlo! You made it!” they called.
Marlo grinned and floated out onto the warm rocks, looking back at the winding river he had finally traveled. “I was trying so hard to do it just one way,” he said softly. “But I didn’t need to fight the river at all. I just needed to let it carry me home.”
AI-generated images
Liaa Kumar
