Kevin had already made his Halloween costume with his mom and helped his dad decorate their house. He was excited about how much candy he would collect. But one house on his street didn’t have any decorations, and that kept bothering him. He didn’t understand why someone wouldn’t celebrate Halloween, so he thought maybe they needed help.
Halloween was almost here, and the entire neighborhood was buzzing with excitement. Every yard seemed to be trying to be the scariest one around.
There were pumpkins with big, jagged smiles all along the sidewalks. Plastic skeletons hung from tree branches, and fake cobwebs covered porches.
The air smelled like dry leaves and candy, and eleven-year-old Kevin could feel his heart racing with excitement.
Halloween was Kevin’s favorite day of the year, a time when anyone could be whatever they wanted. He loved how everything changed for that one magical night.
As he walked down the street, he smiled, looking at the glowing jack-o’-lanterns and spooky ghosts decorating the houses. Some homes even played creepy sounds like witches’ laughter and creaking doors.
But something different caught his eye as he went farther down the street. One house was dark and plain, with no decorations at all. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.
Mrs. Kimbly was an older woman who lived alone. Kevin had helped her before, mowing her lawn in summer and shoveling snow in winter, but she rarely said much. Her undecorated house seemed out of place in the festive neighborhood.
Kevin felt bad that her house had no Halloween spirit. He thought maybe she needed help with the decorations. Determined, he crossed the street and knocked on her door.
When Mrs. Kimbly answered, her face showed annoyance. “What do you want, Kevin?” she asked in a gruff voice.
“I noticed you don’t have any Halloween decorations. I could help you put some up, if you’d like,” Kevin offered.
Mrs. Kimbly frowned. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need help,” she said sharply before slamming the door.
Kevin was surprised. How could anyone hate Halloween so much? He didn’t want her house to be a target for pranks, like kids throwing toilet paper, so he came up with a plan.
At home, Kevin told his mom, Sarah, about Mrs. Kimbly’s undecorated house and how she had slammed the door in his face. His mom suggested leaving her alone, explaining that people might have reasons for not celebrating.
But Kevin didn’t think Mrs. Kimbly hated Halloween—she seemed lonely. So, he decided to help anyway.
He gathered all the Halloween decorations he could find, including his favorite pumpkin, and hurried back to Mrs. Kimbly’s house. He carefully hung lights and placed pumpkins on her porch. As he finished, the front door opened, and Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, furious.
“I told you not to decorate my house!” she yelled. She grabbed Kevin’s carved pumpkin and smashed it on the ground. Kevin was shocked and hurt, but he whispered, “I just wanted to help,” before running home.
That night, Kevin put on his vampire costume, but he couldn’t enjoy Halloween. He was worried about Mrs. Kimbly’s house being pranked. So, he returned to her house and sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to trick-or-treaters, explaining that Mrs. Kimbly wasn’t home.
As he sat alone, the door creaked open. Mrs. Kimbly stepped out, her expression softer this time.
“What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” Kevin explained. “I thought I could help.”
Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat beside him. She admitted that Halloween was hard for her because it reminded her of how alone she was. She had no family to share it with.
Kevin understood now. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with the rest of us.”
Mrs. Kimbly smiled sadly and thanked Kevin for his kindness. She even apologized for smashing his pumpkin. Kevin promised to bring another one so they could carve it together.
For the first time in years, Mrs. Kimbly felt the warmth of Halloween again, thanks to the caring heart of one determined boy.
Woman sees what she thought was a happy bird, then suddenly realises it’s something else
Embarking on a leisurely journey through the enchanting landscapes of Popran National Park in Australia, Kym Beechey found herself captivated by the allure of wildflowers, aiming to immortalize their beauty through her lens. Renowned for her unhurried hikes that allow her to fully absorb the marvels of nature, Beechey often faced the challenge of capturing the elusive movements of the area’s wildlife.
On a serendipitous day, fortune seemed to favor her when she spotted what initially appeared to be a young tawny frogmouth, bearing a striking resemblance to an owl, perched gracefully on a limb. A surge of excitement coursed through her veins, as avian subjects had proven to be notoriously swift for her camera.
Swiftly reaching for her phone, Beechey readied herself to capture the seemingly cheerful little bird. Zooming in for a closer look, a sense of anticipation enveloped her, only to be met with an unexpected twist. The smiling avian subject turned out to be none other than a banksia pod, a unique and charming pod that strikingly resembled a joyful bird.
As Beechey adjusted her camera to the revelation, it dawned on her that the seemingly animated “bird” was, in reality, a banksia pod, a distinctive and adorable pod that mimicked the appearance of a delighted bird. Banksia pods find their roots in banksia trees, primarily flourishing in southwestern Australia, with occasional sightings in New Zealand and Papua New Guinea.
Diverging from the resemblance to conventional pine cones, banksia pods are distinct fruit structures unrelated to pine trees. Originating from the Banksia genus trees, these pods, notably those from the Bull Banksia species, boast a substantial and sturdy build, making them suitable for an array of wood applications.
The Banksia grandis species, recognized for producing sizable seed pods, injects an artistic flair into various crafts and frequently graces online markets. Once the vibrant red or yellow banksia flowers shed their petals, the cone perseveres on the tree, eventually giving birth to seeds. Remarkably, a single tree can host both blossoms and mature cones concurrently.
The unique visage of banksia pods emerges from their tendency to burst open, liberating seeds in the process. Although Beechey’s initial impression of encountering an endearing baby bird was misplaced, she embraced the delightful surprise with laughter. Despite the amusing deception, the encounter contributed another charming snapshot to her ever-growing collection of exquisite wildflowers.
Given their idiosyncratic traits, banksia pods possess an uncanny ability to be mistaken for other entities, with each pod presenting a distinctive appearance within its own realm. Have you ever stumbled upon a plant that, at first glance, bore an uncanny resemblance to something entirely different, perhaps masquerading as a bird or another creature?
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