A scabbard worn on a child’s waist will drag against the dewy lawn: your opportunity to trace impermanent patterns or letters visible from treetops or the air. Walk carefully, but don’t worry: it will vanish soon enough.

Your most special friends require difficult treatment based on their wish to please you. You can challenge them with obstacles that you build yourself out of curtain-rods. Blast the metal with air from a pair of bellows to keep the morning brisk.

If at daybreak you have the singular luck to encounter a bird that is far too large for its species — a mutant, too bloated to fly or even crawl under the hedges — by all means, feed it more water than it needs, until it upchucks into the silver urn you have thoughtfully kept unused before now. Let this stand. A coveted fine mist will form over the paths and hang there long enough to complicate the day’s activities.