The Birds of Rainbow Forest

Rainbow Forest was the most colourful place in the whole world. Red birds lived in the red tree. Blue birds lived in the blue tree. Yellow birds lived in the yellow tree. Every bird had a tree. Every bird had a home. Then one morning — CRACK! CRACK! POP! A tiny egg broke open right in the middle of the forest floor. Out tumbled a little bird with bright purple feathers. She shook herself off. She ruffled her wings. She looked up at the trees. "So… which one's mine?" The red birds looked down. "Not red. Not ours." The blue birds looked down. "Not blue. Not ours." The yellow birds looked down. "Not yellow. Not ours." "I'm Plum!" said Plum. Nobody answered. "OKAY THEN," said Plum. "I'll figure it out myself." First she flew up to the red tree. The red birds were the fastest flyers in the forest. They zipped through the branches like little red rockets. ZOOM! ZOOM! ZOOM! "Maybe I'm a red bird!" said Plum. "I just need to prove it!" She launched off the branch. Three seconds later she flew straight into a bush. CRASH! "Tuck your wings," the fastest red bird said, trying not to laugh. "And don't aim at the bush." Plum tried again. She wobbled. She dipped. She almost hit a second bush. But she made it through the trees. "WOOHOO!" Plum hollered. "I'm a red bird!" The red birds shook their heads. "You're fast-ER. But you're not a red bird. Sorry, Plum." Plum's feathers drooped. But only for a second. "Fine. NEXT TREE." She flew to the blue tree. The blue birds sang the most beautiful songs in the forest. So beautiful that even the butterflies stopped to listen. "Maybe I'm a blue bird!" said Plum. She opened her beak and sang. SQUAAAAAAWK! Every bird on the branch flinched. A squirrel fell out of a tree. Two butterflies flew into each other. "Maybe just… hum?" the lead blue bird suggested. So Plum hummed. And actually? Not bad. By the end she was humming along, only slightly off-key. "GOOD ENOUGH!" cheered Plum. "I'm a blue bird!" The blue birds winced. "You're a hum-mer. But you're not a blue bird. Sorry, Pl—" But Plum was already gone. She landed in the yellow tree before they'd even finished. The yellow birds built the best nests in the whole forest. Cozy. Sturdy. Perfect. "DEFINITELY a yellow bird," said Plum. She grabbed some twigs and got to work. Ten minutes later she stepped back. It looked like a pile of sticks that had been in a fight. With another pile of sticks. And lost. "It's… creative," said one yellow bird, tilting her head sideways. But they showed her one trick — twist the twig under and over to lock it in place. CLICK. It held! "I'm a yellow bird!" said Plum. The yellow birds smiled sadly. "You're a builder. But you're not a yellow bird. Sorry, Plum." This time, Plum didn't bounce back. She flew down to a branch in the middle of the forest. Not in any tree. Just… in the middle. She looked up at the red tree, full of birds who had a home. She looked at the blue tree. Same thing. She looked at the yellow tree. Same thing. Plum tucked her wings in and said nothing. Then — CRACK! A huge branch broke off the old oak tree. SMASH! It crashed across the path between all three trees. Nests tumbled. Twigs flew everywhere. Birds flapped in circles, bumping into each other, squawking, going absolutely nowhere. But Plum was already moving. She ZOOMED between the trees to check on everyone — fast, like the red birds taught her. She hummed a calm, steady tune to settle the panicking birds — like the blue birds taught her. And she twisted and locked the broken twigs back together — CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! — like the yellow birds taught her. One little purple bird. Fixing everything. The whole forest went quiet. "How did you DO all that?" whispered a red bird. "You taught me," said Plum. The birds looked at each other. Then at the other trees. Then back at Plum. "Could you… teach US?" asked a tiny red bird. Plum grinned the biggest grin. "I thought you'd never ask." The next morning, for the first time EVER, the red birds visited the blue tree. The blue birds visited the yellow tree. And the yellow birds visited the red tree. The forest was noisier than ever. Messier than ever. More colourful than ever. And right in the middle of it all — humming her slightly off-key tune on her branch in the middle of the forest — was Plum. She never did find her tree. She didn't need one. She belonged in all of them. THE END.