The Roof of the World

In the morning Polly climbed to the very top of the forest, into the bright loud world of the canopy. Down on the ground the rainforest is dim and still, but up here it was all sun and movement. Leaves shone, flowers hung in the open air, and fruit ripened within easy reach. Polly's blue-teal wings flashed as she rose through the warm light, and at once she understood why so many creatures never leave this upper floor.

Most of the animals in a rainforest live in the canopy, in a green city that floats above the ground. Monkeys ran along the branches like roads. Sloths hung quietly, eating leaves so slowly that tiny plants grow in their fur. Birds of every color crossed from tree to tree. Almost none of them would touch the forest floor in their whole lives.

It was the loudest, brightest place Polly had ever seen. Parrots and toucans called from the high branches, their feathers red and gold and blue against the green. Polly slipped in among them, and for once her own bright colors were nothing special. Here, being green and red and blue was simply how you dressed for the day.

Now and then a single giant tree rose far above the rest, standing alone over the canopy like a tower. Polly flew to the top of one and rested. From up there the forest spread out in every direction, soft and endless, breathing its slow warm breath. She could see rain falling somewhere far away, a grey curtain hanging over the green.