Cleo the Crocodile Counts Clouds E-Book

Kelly Johnson

• Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 109

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Cleo the Crocodile awakens one morning with a spark of curiosity and decides to embark on a whimsical adventure: counting the clouds in the sky. As she explores the riverbank and meadow, she discovers that each cloud has its own shape, story, and magicbunnies, castles, dragons, ice cream cones, and morechanging constantly as her imagination follows their playful transformations. With every swirl and puff, Cleo learns that counting clouds is more than a numbers game; it is a way to notice the beauty of the world, invent stories, and experience joy in the little details around her. Through her laughter, playful leaps, and wide-eyed wonder, she finds that every cloud is alive with possibilities, and her counting becomes a journey of creativity, delight, and endless discovery, with each day promising new adventures above and reflected in the sparkling waters below.

Leseprobe

IMPRESSUM

Cleo the Crocodile Counts Clouds

Author: Kelly Johnson

© 2025 Kelly Johnson.

All rights reserved.

Author: Kelly Johnson

Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Cleo’s Curious Eyes

Chapter 2: The Cloud Shapes Parade

Chapter 3: Counting in the Meadow

Chapter 4: Rainy Day Mix-Up

Chapter 5: The Cloud Contest

Chapter 6: The Wiggly Wind

Chapter 7: The Sunset Clouds

Chapter 8: Cloud Shapes at Night

Chapter 9: Counting Dreams

Chapter 10: Tomorrow’s Clouds

Cleo the Crocodile Counts Clouds

By: Kelly Johnson

Chapter 1: Cleo’s Curious Eyes

Cleo the Crocodile blinked her sleepy eyes open as the first golden rays of the morning sun stretched across the riverbank, casting sparkling patterns on the rippling water. She yawned a long, toothy yawn, and her jaws stretched so wide that a tiny gust of warm morning air rustled the reeds nearby. Slowly, she lifted her head, shaking the last traces of sleep from her scaly green body. The river shimmered in the dawn light, fish darting just beneath the surface, and a gentle breeze ruffled her scales with a cool, comforting touch. Today felt different, somehow. There was a tickle of excitement in her chest, a fluttering energy that made her tail swish back and forth against the soft earth with anticipation.

She lifted her gaze to the sky above, and there it was—a big, fluffy cloud, drifting lazily across the endless blue. Its shape was unmistakable: a sailboat, with billowing white sails and a sturdy hull, floating as if on an invisible sea. Cleo’s eyes widened, and her tail gave a joyful twitch, kicking up a little puff of sand. “One cloud,” she whispered to herself, her voice soft but full of wonder. She had never thought much about clouds before, but today something felt different. Today she wanted to pay attention. Today she wanted to notice every swirl, every puff, every gentle shape floating above the world. Today, she decided, she would count them all.

Cleo shuffled a few steps closer to the river’s edge, claws leaving tiny prints in the moist sand. She tilted her head, squinting at the sky, her eyes following the slow drift of another cloud forming in the distance. “Two clouds!” she said, pointing with a claw at a tiny puff shaped like a teacup. It bobbed gently, wobbling as the wind nudged it along, steam of imagination curling from its invisible rim. A soft breeze carried the scent of wet earth and blooming riverbank flowers, and Cleo closed her eyes for a moment, letting the morning surround her. Counting clouds was harder than she thought—it wasn’t just looking up. It was noticing the little details: the shadows that played along the fluffy edges, the way sunlight made the corners glow, the tiny curls and wisps that shifted almost as if the clouds had their own secret lives.

Her excitement grew as she discovered another cloud, shaped like a playful puppy, chasing a butterfly that wasn’t really there. “Three!” she chirped, hopping on her stubby legs in glee. Every time she counted, her tail thumped against the riverbank, sending a tiny wave across the water. Even the fish seemed to leap higher, as if joining in her joy. Cleo realized that counting wasn’t just about numbers—it was about noticing, imagining, and enjoying the world in a whole new way. Each cloud had a story, a personality, a fleeting magic that made the sky feel alive.

She took a deep breath, feeling the crisp morning air fill her lungs, and let her eyes wander over the endless canvas above. Some clouds stretched long and thin like ribbons, twisting and curling in fanciful patterns. Others piled high like towers of whipped cream, tall and lopsided, daring her to imagine what they could become next. Cleo’s heart raced with delight. She swished her tail harder, balanced on her stubby legs, and whispered, “I wonder how many I can count today… maybe ten, maybe twenty… maybe even a hundred!”

And with that, Cleo the Crocodile began her first real adventure in cloud counting, eyes bright, claws ready, and imagination soaring higher than any cloud she had ever seen.

Her eyes darted from one cloud to another, each one more surprising than the last. There was a long, thin one that slithered across the horizon like a green garden snake basking in the sun. A round puff bounced and jiggled, reminding her of a cheerful ball tumbling down a hill. Another cloud seemed to have tiny ears, almost like a shy rabbit peeking curiously out from the sky. Cleo’s tail wagged faster with each new discovery, swishing in delight so energetically that it left faint trails in the dew-covered grass. “Three… four… five!” she murmured, hopping from one muddy riverbank to the next, her claws digging lightly into the soft earth to steady herself, making sure she had the best angle to see every cloud in the ever-shifting sky.

The river sparkled in the sunlight, reflecting the clouds as if the water itself had become a mirror for the heavens. Cleo blinked and laughed, realizing she could count each cloud twice—once in the sky and once in the rippling water. Tiny waves made the reflections wiggle and dance, turning a simple cloud into a shimmering, living story. Birds flitted from branch to branch above, chirping and diving as if cheering her on, their songs a melody that perfectly accompanied her counting. A family of dragonflies zipped past, their iridescent wings catching the sunlight like little flying jewels. Cleo imagined they were clapping and spinning in celebration, applauding her determination and curiosity.

Cleo lay down on the soft, mossy riverbank, her claws reaching toward the sky, toes curling in delight. The moss tickled her belly, and the sweet smell of wildflowers nearby mingled with the earthy scent of damp soil. She watched as clouds drifted lazily, some morphing in the gentlest breeze. A teacup puff stretched into a long, twirling scarf, winding around imaginary shoulders. A sailboat transformed into a tiny castle with spires that glittered like sunlight on water. A playful puppy-shaped cloud pranced into view, wagging a tail of mist that dissolved into a smiling crescent moon-shaped puff. Cleo’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Six… seven… eight… nine…” she counted carefully, flapping her wings to keep her balance as she squirmed to see behind a tall patch of reeds.

The morning seemed to stretch and sparkle with possibility. A cloud that had looked like a steaming mug of cocoa suddenly puffed into a flying dragon, wings outstretched as it soared across the sky. Another twisted and twirled, forming a parade of marching elephants, each one stepping lightly over the horizon. Cleo hopped, twirled, and bounced, each movement making her laugh with delight. She noticed the tiniest details—the way a puffed-up cloud cast a shadow over the glimmering water, or how a streak of sunlight turned the edge of a cloud into a golden halo. Every twist and shift was a new adventure, a puzzle to solve, a story to imagine.

Her heart fluttered with excitement, a thrill that made her scales tingle and her tail wag like a metronome keeping time to the sky’s rhythm. She could feel the warmth of the sun spreading across her back, the soft breeze ruffling her wings and carrying the faint scent of wildflowers from the meadow. Every rustle of the grass, every chirp of a bird, seemed to be part of the grand performance above. The clouds weren’t just shapes—they were little living stories drifting lazily across the expanse, waiting for her to notice them, name them, and imagine the secret journeys they might take. Some were silly, popping and stretching like cottony balloons with playful intentions. Some were majestic, curling into dragons with tails coiling around invisible castles, or forming enormous ships sailing on unseen winds. Others were mysterious, folding into twisting spirals or shapes that seemed to hide hidden worlds inside, like treasure waiting to be discovered. Each one made her giggle, gasp, or whisper softly in wonder, and each seemed to have a personality all its own, as if the sky itself had crafted them for her to find.

By the time the sun climbed higher, spilling golden light across the meadow and drying the dew on the moss, Cleo had counted dozens of clouds, each with a shape and story of its own. She had lost track of numbers more than once, her laughter ringing like bells as a cloud morphed from a bouncing rabbit into a twirling castle turret, then stretched into a long, elegant dragon curling over a floating rainbow. She felt a light, happy ache in her wings from hopping, stretching, and twirling to keep up with the sky’s shifting wonders, but her heart felt full and alive, singing with the rhythm of the world around her. The river reflected the clouds in ripples, doubling the magic, and even the smallest insects—bees buzzing, dragonflies flitting—seemed to join in the celebration of shapes and light.

With a deep, happy breath, Cleo realized that counting clouds wasn’t just a game, or a way to pass the time—it was a way to notice the magic all around her, to see the world as a playground of stories, and to discover that even the sky had secrets waiting just for her. Each shape she spotted was a new tale, a fleeting adventure, a character in a sky-bound drama. She imagined the clouds holding little whispers and songs, sharing them silently with anyone willing to watch and imagine along. Even the tiniest wisp could become a flying fish, a teacup spinning through the air, or a parade of tiny, jubilant bunnies hopping in perfect rhythm.

“Today,” Cleo whispered, tail flicking with determination, wings quivering in excitement, “I will count every cloud I see. Every single one. One, two, three… and on and on!” Her claws tapped eagerly on the soft moss as she crouched, ready to spring into motion. She leapt to her feet, stretched her long, scaly back, and wagged her tail like a banner of pure joy. The sunlight glimmered across her scales, reflecting like tiny emeralds, and a warm breeze carried the promise of more wonders yet to come. Today was going to be a day full of clouds, counting, and endless adventure—and Cleo couldn’t wait to see what surprises the sky would bring. She scampered across the meadow, wings fluttering, claws skimming the grass, each step a tiny drumbeat to match the rhythm of drifting clouds above, ready to chase stories, shapes, and the sparkling magic of the sky itself.

Chapter 2: The Cloud Shapes Parade

Cleo the Crocodile stretched her long, green body as she gazed up at the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on her scales. The golden rays spilled across the riverbank, making the ripples in the water shimmer and sparkle like tiny stars scattered across a crystal lake. Every blade of grass seemed brighter, every flower more colorful, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the morning breeze added a soft music to the moment. Cleo’s eyes scanned the sky with wide wonder, her tail swishing back and forth so quickly that it sent little waves through the shallow river water. Today, she had discovered something truly magical: clouds could look like anything! Her gaze landed on a fluffy white cloud that bounced lazily across the sky. Its shape was unmistakable: a hopping bunny, with long ears that flopped as it “jumped” from one puff of sky to the next and a little round tail puffed up like a cotton ball. “One cloud—a bunny!” Cleo squeaked happily, hopping a little in place, her claws pressing into the soft, damp earth. She imagined the bunny twitching its tiny nose, sniffing the sky, and leaping playfully across the horizon. She giggled so hard that tiny droplets of water splashed from the river onto her scales, tickling her belly and making her wiggle in delight. Even the dragonflies hovering above seemed to pause and watch, their wings glittering in the sunlight like tiny, twinkling jewels. Birds flitted from tree to tree, chirping their curious songs, and Cleo imagined them joining the bunny in a sky-high parade, their feathers glinting as they darted in and out of clouds.