Drip-drop, tip-tap. The meadow glittered after the morning rain. Rue the bluebird flew low over the wet grass, shaking tiny droplets from the flowers. “Everything’s sparkling,” she chirped. “It’s like the sky sprinkled diamonds.”

She landed on a fence post and fluttered her wings. A few drops flew off and landed on a leaf. “There you go,” Rue said softly. “A little drink for you.”

Clover the rabbit peeked out from behind a daisy. Her fur was dotted with tiny beads of water. “Rue, you’re watering the plants.”

Rue laughed. “A little. But the plants do most of the work.”

Clover blinked. “What do you mean?”

Rue hopped closer. “When rain falls, it slides down the leaves and into the soil. The roots drink the water and share it with the plants around them. And later, some of that water goes back into the air as mist.”

Clover’s ears perked. “So the water keeps moving?”

Rue nodded. “Yes. It falls, it soaks in, it rises, and then the clouds drop it again. The whole world helps keep the rain moving.”

Clover sniffed a wet clover blossom. “It smells fresh. Like everything woke up.”

“That’s what rain does,” Rue said. “It fills streams, washes dust away, and helps plants grow strong again.”

A droplet slid from a tall leaf and plinked into a puddle. Whooosh. A soft breeze carried the smell of wet grass through the air.

Rue whispered, “The clouds give. The plants share. And we help take care of it all.”