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- Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
Daisy the Duck wakes up to a magical morning filled with shimmering white and yellow flowers she has never seen before. Curious about these glowing blossoms, which remind her of tiny suns and stars, she sets off with her friend Benny the Bunny to discover what they are and why they suddenly appeared. Their journey leads them to Mr. Finch, the wise Meadow Keeper, who tells them that daisies are gentle flowers filled with sunshine and kindness. As Daisy learns about these enchanting flowers, she feels a deep connection to the meadow and begins an adventure of friendship, discovery, and the magic hidden in natures smallest wonders.
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Seitenzahl: 84
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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IMPRESSUM
Daisy the Duck Discovers Daisies
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: A Curious Morning
Chapter 2: The Mystery Flowers
Chapter 3: Meeting the Meadow Keeper
Chapter 4: Learning About Daisies
Chapter 5: Daisy’s Plan
Chapter 6: Planting the Seeds
Chapter 7: Waiting and Wondering
Chapter 8: The First Sprouts
Chapter 9: A Meadow Full of Daisies
Chapter 10: A Gift for Everyone
Title: Daisy the Duck Discovers Daisies
Author: Kelly Johnson
Chapter 1: A Curious Morning
The first soft rays of sunlight stretched gently across the sky, painting the world in pale shades of pink and gold. High above, feathery clouds caught the light like tufts of spun sugar, drifting slowly across a waking sky. A cool morning breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying with it the fresh scent of dew-kissed grass, earthy soil, and blooming wildflowers just beginning to open their sleepy petals. It was a breeze that carried secrets—tiny promises of adventures waiting to be found.
Near the quiet pond, nestled between tall reeds and waving cattails, Daisy the Duck blinked her sleepy eyes open. A dragonfly zipped past, its wings glinting like glass in the early light. The pond’s surface shimmered like a sheet of gold-tinted glass, disturbed only by the gentle ripple of a curious fish just beneath the water. Daisy’s cozy nest, built from soft feathers and woven bits of grass, cradled her like a hug. But something in the morning called to her—a gentle tug of wonder.
With a flutter of her feathers and a bright little quack, Daisy sat up and stretched her wings wide, giving them a few flaps to shake off the last bits of sleep. A soft breeze ruffled her downy feathers as she stood, her webbed feet squishing slightly against the damp earth. She could feel it in her heart—today wasn’t just another day. Today felt like the beginning of something new. There was a sparkle in the air, as if even the sunlight was humming with possibility.
“I wonder what I’ll find today,” Daisy said aloud, her voice soft and hopeful.
With a bounce in her step and her head held high, Daisy stepped out of her nest and waddled toward the edge of the pond. Her feet made gentle splashes in the shallow puddles from last night’s dew. The meadow beyond stretched wide and open, dappled with patches of sunlight that spilled through the trees like liquid gold.
The world around her was waking up, too. Bees buzzed lazily, already hard at work floating from blossom to blossom, their fuzzy bodies dusted in golden pollen. Butterflies twirled and looped above the grass, their delicate wings shimmering in shades of blue, orange, and white. A chorus of birds chimed in from the trees, greeting the morning with sweet melodies—some chirping sharp and bright, others warbling low and smooth like lullabies in reverse.
Daisy waddled eagerly toward the meadow’s edge, her orange webbed feet padding softly on the moist earth. Each step filled her with growing excitement, like a page turning in a book full of surprises. She loved this place—more than anywhere else in the world. It was where colors danced in the light, where breezes carried the laughter of leaves, and where every flower felt like a story waiting to be told.
As she reached a small hill just past the cattails, Daisy paused. Her eyes widened.
There, nestled in the tall grass like a secret treasure, were clusters of tiny white and yellow flowers she’d never noticed before. Their petals glowed faintly in the golden morning sun, and their bright centers reminded her of sunshine itself.
Daisy tilted her head, curiosity blooming in her chest. “What are those?” she whispered.
The breeze carried no answer, only the gentle rustle of grass and the whisper of something magical about to begin.
But today, something unusual caught Daisy’s eye.
As she wandered carefully between the tall grass, her keen eyes spotted a soft splash of white nestled low in the green. She blinked and stepped closer, pushing gently past a curtain of wild clover. There, glowing softly in the slanting morning light, was a cluster of tiny flowers she had never seen before.
Their petals were delicate and white—each one shaped like a miniature star, so fine and thin they almost looked like they might float away on the breeze. They circled around bright golden centers, perfectly round and glowing like drops of sun captured and tucked into each blossom. Dew clung to their surfaces, shimmering like diamonds, turning every bloom into a treasure.
Daisy’s head tilted in wonder, her beak parted in silent awe. “What are these beautiful little flowers?” she whispered, her voice so soft it could barely be heard over the rustling of the grass. Her heart fluttered with curiosity.
Stepping closer with care, she kept her webbed feet light on the ground, not wanting to crush even a single petal. The flowers didn’t shy away from her—if anything, they seemed to lift their faces toward her, nodding gently in the breeze, as if greeting her warmly.
She bent her head low and sniffed. A sweet, clean scent floated up from the patch—light and fresh, with just a hint of something sunny and golden in it. It reminded her of fresh air after rain, of warm mornings filled with song, of something too lovely for words.
Daisy blinked slowly, trying to take in every detail. She had explored this meadow countless times—every hollow log, every patch of wildflowers, every shaded nook by the pond—but never, not once, had she seen these flowers. That alone made them feel mysterious, magical even.
She followed the trail of blossoms, noticing how they grew in scattered clusters across the meadow. Not in straight rows like planted gardens, but in gentle, natural bursts—like laughter, or sunlight spilling through the trees. Each clump of flowers brightened the green around it, as if the earth had smiled in that one special spot.
Some flowers stretched tall above the grass, their white petals catching the breeze like little sails. Others were nestled close to the ground, sleepy and hidden, waiting to be discovered.
The longer Daisy looked at them, the more enchanted she became. “They’re like little stars… or suns… or both!” she quacked softly, her eyes wide with wonder.
She imagined them being magical—flowers that only bloomed once a year, or appeared to those who were kind and curious. Maybe they held stories in their petals. Maybe they were a gift from the sky. She even imagined, just for a moment, that they had bloomed just for her.
Whatever the truth, one thing was certain: Daisy needed to learn more. There had to be a name for these bright little blossoms, and maybe someone in the meadow would know it. Maybe there was a story behind them. Maybe—just maybe—this discovery was only the beginning.
With her feathers slightly fluffed from excitement and a bright twinkle in her eyes, Daisy turned away from the patch of flowers and began waddling toward the edge of the meadow. She knew just who to ask first.
Chapter 2: The Mystery Flowers
The sun climbed a little higher, casting golden light across the meadow and making the tiny white and yellow flowers sparkle even more brightly. The dew that clung to each petal glittered like tiny jewels, and the soft breeze made the blossoms dance gently, as if swaying to a secret song only the flowers could hear.
Daisy the Duck waddled slowly among the blooms, her eyes wide with wonder. She moved carefully, not wanting to step on a single petal. Each delicate flower looked like a little piece of sunshine resting gently on the earth, and the sight filled her heart with quiet joy. Birds chirped above her, and the scent of wildflowers and clover wrapped around her like a gentle hug.
She paused by a particularly pretty cluster of blooms and leaned down, her beak nearly brushing the petals. She studied them closely, trying to memorize every detail—the golden yellow center, perfectly round like a tiny sun, and the soft, slender white petals that stretched out like rays of light. “I wonder what these are called,” Daisy whispered, her voice soft with awe. She tilted her head, imagining they might be stars that had fallen from the sky and taken root in the meadow.
Just then, a soft rustling in the grass nearby made her look up. From behind a clump of clover hopped Benny the Bunny, his fluffy tail bouncing like a cotton puff. His nose twitched rapidly, and his long ears perked with curiosity as he made his way toward her.
“Hello, Daisy!” Benny said brightly, his whiskers quivering with excitement. “You’re up early! What are you doing out here?”
Daisy smiled and waved her wing toward the flowers. “Look at these,” she said, her eyes still filled with wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like them before. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Benny hopped closer and sniffed the air, his nose twitching thoughtfully. He leaned down, inspecting one of the blooms with gentle curiosity. “Hmm… they do look familiar,” he murmured. “They remind me of daisies, though I’m not completely sure. My grandma once told me about a flower that looked like sunshine with a white skirt—but I’ve never seen one up close until now.”
He sat back on his haunches and gazed at the field of blossoms. “They’re everywhere today. It’s like the meadow suddenly decided to throw a flower party while we were sleeping.”
