Fantasy Daily News

The kakapo, a large, flightless parrot from New Zealand, now has its biggest population in about 75 years. New official counts show 325 birds, up from around 235 before this year.

The kakapo is critically endangered, which means very few are left in the wild. In 1995, only 51 kakapo were alive. Since then, New Zealand's Department of Conservation has worked for decades to help the birds breed safely on islands with no predators.

This year's breeding season added 90 new chicks, the most ever counted at once. Officials say the birds had extra wild fruit to eat this year, which helped many parents raise healthy chicks with less human help than usual.

Experts are happy but careful. The kakapo is still rare, and workers are now looking for safe new islands so the growing population has enough space and food.

Monday morning came gray and a little chilly, with the first real smell of rain in the air. Lyn pulled on her coat before breakfast and checked the sealed envelope on the kitchen table one more time.

"Still there," she said, smiling at Star, who thumped her tail against the floor as if she understood. Pinkysan was curled on the chair nearby, one eye open, watching the envelope like a small, quiet guard.

"Don't forget your umbrella," Linda called from the kitchen, handing Lyn a cup of tea. "The sky looks heavy today."

Lyn tucked the letter carefully into her bag, between her scarf and her lunch box, so it would not get wet. "I'll post it on the way to the hotel," she said. "Then all we can do is wait."

Star trotted beside her to the gate, tail wagging, and gave a short bark as Lyn stepped out onto the quiet street. A few drops of rain had already started to fall, tapping softly on the fallen leaves.

At the corner, the red postbox stood a little shiny and wet. Lyn held the envelope under her coat until the last moment, then slid it through the slot with a soft, final thud.

"There," she whispered, watching the slot for a second longer than she needed to. "Now it's your turn, John."

The walk to the hotel felt lighter after that, even with the rain picking up. At the front desk, Lyn greeted two guests asking about buses to Nara Park, and the morning passed quickly in small, ordinary tasks.

When she came home that evening, Linda was setting the table while the kettle hissed on the stove. "Any news?" Linda asked, only half joking.

"It's only been a few hours," Lyn laughed, hanging up her damp coat. "But the letter is on its way. That's something."

Outside, the rain tapped steadily on the roof, and the persimmon tree's last orange leaves glistened under the porch light. Star settled by the door with a contented sigh, and Pinkysan moved to the window, watching the wet street as if she, too, were waiting for an answer.

(To be continued)