On one dragon tree, sturdy and branching, unusual fruits grow. In May, large fluffy flowers bloom on it with the sweet aroma of blackberries.
When the petals fall away, a firm green pod appears in the heart of each flower. By autumn, these seed-pods turn red and crack open, so the world can see the fruits of the dragon tree.
These are tiny dragons. They look like perfectly ordinary ones, only miniature. And they have wings, and they can breathe fire — everything as it should be. Adult dragons spend whole days hunting for treasures. They search for them and bring them back to their chests in the tree.
Colourful residents flutter around their native home like butterflies, bustling about, hurrying on errands, chatting and keeping quiet, lazing and working, sleeping, eating, dreaming and singing songs.
The tree, full of dragon rooms, grows in an ordinary city park. Only those who are used to rushing about and looking at their feet notice no wonders on it at all. More's the pity.
Because all sorts of amusing nonsense happens there constantly, especially with the younger dragons.
Last autumn, from a beautiful seed with a lilac sheen, a purple dragon named Filimon hatched, but everyone just calls him Filya. The name was chosen for him by the old nanny, as it was for the other dragonlings who appeared that year.
They were all named with the letter F. The previous year, the little ones were named with the letter U, and the following year they'll be given names with the letter X — it's all quite simple.
Curious Filya once asked what would happen when the letters ran out. He was told that then a new tree would appear, and everything would start again from the beginning. But for now, there's plenty of free space on this one, and there are quite a few letters left in reserve.
Life bubbles on the tree and around it, like in a cauldron of rainbow soup, especially with the arrival of a whole crop of dragonlings with the letter F!
