Toby had picked out the twelve-color set himself, along with heavy watercolor paper that wouldn’t warp when it got wet.

Toby unzipped his canvas backpack, took out the thick watercolor pad, and set a plastic water cup on the bench between us.

He opened his metal paint tin, showing twelve clean cakes of dry watercolor paint.

He turned his attention to the stone footbridge that crossed the narrow middle of the pond.

A small gray turtle sat perfectly still on a log near the water’s edge, soaking up the afternoon light.

Toby dipped his brush into the water cup and swirled the bristles on the dark gray paint cake.