The sun had just begun to stretch its golden fingers across the backyard when Tash planted her tiny feet on the porch step, her pink‑toed sneakers squeaking against the wooden planks. Beside her, was Shaggy, her amber‑eyed mutt with a habit of wagging his tail so hard his whole body shook, Shaggy panted happily, his tongue lolling out in a permanent grin.
“Mummy, are you ready yet?” Tash asked, her voice bubbling with the kind of excitement that only a Saturday morning adventure can summon.
“Almost, love,” her mother called from the kitchen, her hands already fumbling with a wide‑brimmed hat and a set of jangling keys. “Just need my sun‑cream and the water bottle.” She stepped out, brushed a stray curl from her cheek, and paused at the door, her eyes twinkling.
“One foot, two feet, step by step—our adventure is about to begin!” The pair sang together, their voices carrying over the garden fence and into the quiet street. Shaggy barked a single, enthusiastic note, as if to add his own chorus.
The short drive to the edge of town was a blur of green hills and the gentle hum of the wind. When they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the nature reserve, Tash leapt from the car, her backpack bouncing against her shoulders. Move raced ahead, nose to the ground, his tail a metronome of pure joy.
“Let’s stick to the bush track today, Tash,” her mother said, slipping a hand over her daughter’s shoulder. “It’s a place where the forest whispers its secrets.”
They set off, boots thudding softly on the leaf‑laden path. The air smelled of eucalyptus and damp earth, and the canopy above filtered the sunlight into a kaleidoscope of amber and jade.
“What do you think we might see today?” her mother asked, eyes scanning the underbrush.
“I don’t know,” Tash replied, her gaze darting from fern to stone to the distant line of trees. “Maybe a snake, or an echidna!” Tash exclaimed with excitement
A few steps later, her mother pointed to a sturdy gum tree that rose like a cathedral spire.
“Can you see that bird?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Tash squinted, craned her neck, and looked—only to see a swath of bark and a few fluttering leaves. “Mummy, I can’t see the birds,” she whispered, disappointment flickering across her face.
“Let’s look together,” her mother said, sliding a finger along a low branch. “We’ll count the twigs: one, two, three… and on that third branch, there are two tiny birds.”
Tash’s eyes widened. In an instant, the two sparrows emerged, their feathers a flash of silver against the green. “Oh, mum! I see them! I see them!” she shouted, hopping up and down so hard that Move’s ears flopped comically.
The rhythmic chirping of the sparrows seemed to set the beat for the rest of their walk. Further along, Tash’s keen eyes caught a rustle in a low bush.
“Look, mum! I can see an echidna!!” she exclaimed, pointing triumphantly.
From the shadows emerged a spiny creature, its snout sniffing the earth, followed by a smaller, even more delicate version—its baby. The little one waddled clumsily, its eyes bright with curiosity.
“Do you know what a baby echidna is called?” Tash’s mother asked, a smile curving her lips.
“It’s called a… a pug!” Tash blurted, giggling at the absurdity of the word.
Her mother laughed, the sound mingling with the rustling leaves. “That’s right. A pug. And they’re the most patient teachers of the bush, because they take their time and never rush.”
The path curved around a moss‑covered rock, and as they rounded the bend, Tash’s eyes fell on something that made her heart sink. A small, speckled lizard lay on its side, its skin a patchwork of browns and greens. Its eyes were half‑closed, and its tail twitched feebly.
“Mum, look!” Tash whispered, kneeling beside the creature. “It looks sad and sick. What’s wrong with it?”
Her mother crouched down, her fingertips hovering just above the lizard’s side. “It doesn’t look injured, but it does look… uncomfortable. Let’s call the native animal rescue. They’ll know what to do.”
Tash pulled out her phone and, with a few quick taps, dialed the number she’d learned in school.
“Hello, this is Dr. Samson from the Native Animal Rescue. Who am I speaking with?”
“Hello Dr. Samson this is Beverly and Tash” her mother replied, her voice calm. “We’ve found a little lizard on the path that seems unwell. Can you help?”
“Send me a picture if you can,” Dr. Samson instructed. “We’ll assess it right away.”
Tash lifted the lizard gently, cradling it in her palms. Move, sensing the seriousness of the moment, lowered his head and nudged her hand with his cold nose. With a few clicks, the photo was sent.
A pause stretched out—a soft, humming silence that seemed to hold the whole forest’s breath. Then the phone crackled.
“Ah, thank you, Tash. From the picture, it looks like the little fellow has a couple of ticks lodged near its ears. They can be irritating and cause a loss of appetite. I’ll guide you through a safe removal, but first, we need to keep it cool and calm.”
Tash’s mother fetched a small, shoe box and placed a cloth inside. She nestled the lizard—still trembling—inside, then sat down on a nearby log with Tash sitting next to her.
“Okay, Tash,” Dr. Samson’s voice continued, “let’s start by gently coaxing the lizard to open its mouth. Use a soft, blunt tool—like a toothpick—to gently push the tick out. Be careful not to squeeze the body of the tick; we want the whole thing to come out.”
Tash’s hands shook a little, but she remembered the calm she’d learned from watching birds build nests and echidnas amble patiently. With her mother’s steady hand guiding hers, she used a clean, wooden toothpick to pry the tiny tick from the lizard’s ear. The tick clung to the tip, then slipped away onto a leaf.
“Great job,” Dr. Samson praised. “Now repeat on the other ear. Once both are gone, we’ll give the lizard a small dose of a natural anti‑parasitic spray that won’t harm the environment.”
Move, ever the assistant, lifted his head and gave a soft whine, as if to say, “I’m here, too.” Tash smiled, feeling the weight of responsibility settle into something warm and empowering.
After the second tick was removed, her mother applied a few drops of the spray, watching the lizard’s eyes flicker open. The creature’s tiny chest rose and fell in a steadier rhythm. It looked up, as if acknowledging its rescuers, then, with a sudden burst of energy, scurried onto the soft moss and disappeared into a nearby leaf litter.
“Did you see that?” Tash whispered, eyes wide with wonder. “It’s alive again!”
“Exactly,” her mother said, pulling Tash into a hug. “You helped a living being get back to its home. That’s the true magic of the bush.”
They lingered a moment longer, the forest humming with the sounds of unseen crickets and distant kookaburras. Move, satisfied with his role, trotted back toward the trail, his tail wagging in a lazy rhythm.
As they made their way back to the car, the sky turned a soft lavender, and fireflies began to flicker like tiny lanterns.
“Tomorrow,” Tash said, glancing at the fading light, “can we come back and see if the lizard is okay?”
“Of course,” her mother replied, squeezing her hand. “The bush is a living story, and you’re now a part of it.”
Back at home, Tash recounted the day’s adventure at dinner, her voice animated, her hands painting pictures in the air. Move rested at her feet, his eyes half‑closed, dreaming of rustling leaves and the gentle tick of a lizard’s heart.
That night, under a ceiling of twinkling stars, Tash slipped into bed with the words her mother had taught her humming in her head:
One foot, two feet, step by step,
The world is wide, its wonders kept.
Listen close, and you will hear
The whispered love of all that’s near.
She drifted off to sleep, the memory of the sick lizard’s tiny eyes and the soft rustle of the bush a comforting lullaby. In her dreams, she ran through emerald forests, hand‑in‑hand with her mother, Move bounding beside them, and every creature they met—birds, echidnas, lizards—greeted them with a nod of gratitude.
When the sun rose again the next morning, Tash was already at the doorway, hat in hand, ready for the next chapter of her bush adventures. And somewhere, hidden beneath a leaf, a little lizard stretched its limbs, feeling the warmth of a world that cared.
The end.
