Bani and the Cloud That Forgot the Way

In one garden behind Bani's house there lived a round pond. In the mornings the sky was reflected in it, and in the evenings the frogs staged concerts. But one day after a thunderstorm, Bani heard a quiet sob at the gate. A tiny Cloud sat in the puddle - gray, wet and completely confused. “I remember that I know how to travel,” it snorted, “but I forgot the path of water.” Bani straightened his yellow scarf and promised to help.

The friends found the first clue at the pond. The sun warmed the water, and the clear air trembled above the surface. “The water is disappearing!” - Cloud was scared. Bani put his paw up: it remained dry, but warm water vapor rose up. Old Reed explained that the sun turns some of the water into invisible travelers. The word “evaporation” seemed familiar to Cloud.

Baths and Cloud rose after the steam on the back of the good Wind. The higher they flew, the cooler the air became. The invisible travelers cooled down, turned into tiny drops and gathered together. First one fluffy stripe appeared, then another, and soon Cloud became big and soft again. “So a cloud is a lot of droplets!” - Bani was surprised.

The wind carried them over the fields, the city and the golden hills. The cloud wanted to stop over every beautiful place, but the Wind smiled: “The air moves all the time, that’s why the clouds wander.” Below, children waved their arms, birds glided nearby, and Bani held tightly to the fluffy edge. Now the journey no longer seemed scary - he had a path and fellow travelers.

Above the cool forest, the droplets inside the Cloud began to connect, grow and become heavier. “I’m falling apart again!” - it screamed when it started to rain. But Bani saw how the water gave water to the withered bells, filled the animals' drinking bowls and washed away the dust from the leaves. “You don’t disappear, you share water,” he said. And Cloud smiled for the first time like a rainy smile.

Some of the drops seeped into the ground to the roots, and some collected in thin streams. One stream got stuck under the branches, and Bani, together with the beaver, cleared the way for it. The water ran down happily, connecting with other streams. Along the way, she watered the fern, turned the small mill wheel and returned the duckling to its mother. The cloud followed them and recognized its own drops.

By evening, the stream led the friends to that same garden pond. Bani expected to see the “End” sign, but the water only quietly splashed against the shore. Tomorrow the sun will warm it again, the steam will rise, cool and become a cloud, and then return as rain. “Water has no last stop,” Bani realized. “There is a big circle in which every part of the path is needed.”

At sunset, the Cloud solemnly repeated the route: evaporation, droplets in the cloud, traveling with the wind, rain, earth and streams. For her help, it gave Bani a cool drop, which did not dry out as long as the cycle was remembered. At home, Bani drew a circle and placed a bowl of water nearby for the birds. And at night a familiar cloud floated over the garden and whispered: “Until the next round, traveler.”