Mister Sunshine basks in the artificial sunlight of the Groves, watching a little bird dart around. A gust of wind blows the sparrow off course.

Sunshine continues to smile as he watches the bird struggle against the breeze.

“Birds are curious little things, don’t you think, my Sunbeams?” he says as the sparrow, pushed off-course, lands on his outstretched finger.

“A curious little sparrow once asked the wind, ‘Where do you come from, and where do you go?’ ”

He pauses and tosses the bird into the air, where it catches another gust of wind.

“The answer, it ponders, will be written on the breeze.”

“The wind replied, ‘follow me, and you shall know.’ So, the sparrow flapped its tiny wings and chased the wind across the land. Past trees, over hills, as far as the eye can see.”

“It passed by a field of flowers, picking up pollen on the breeze as it blew.”

“It flew by mighty wind turbines, turning with the breeze it was carried by.”

“It blew past children playing on a hot day.”

“It even flew past a stream, picking up droplets of water on its wings as the breeze pushed it on.”

Sunshine watches the sparrow struggle against the wind.

“Each time it came close to where it thought it was going, the breeze ushered it on, saying ‘Just a little further now,’ until the bird began to tire.”

The bird returns to land on his finger again, but Sunshine pulls his hand away, causing it to crash to the ground. His smile remains unchanged.

“Exhausted, the sparrow finally falls to the earth.”

Sunshine looks down upon the injured little bird.

“The sparrow was confused, for it had not learned anything.”

“The wind blew its answer. ‘Did you not see me pollinate the flowers, and did mighty wind turbines not turn simply from my breath? Did I not blow a cold breeze on a hot day? Did I not help to evaporate water so that it may rain?’ ”

He picks up the battered bird, holding it gently.

“The sparrow was a stupid little bird so it did not understand. As the sparrow faded, the wind spoke once more… ‘I have no beginning or end. Your answer was with you all along: I simply am.’ “

Sunshine holds the bird to his face.

“Don’t you see, little sparrow? Sometimes, questions just don’t need to be answered. Do you really need to know where I come from? You seek answers to my secrets, but do you not see the good I’ve done?”

“Have I not shown you the value of a little Sunshine? Why must you insist on bringing storm-clouds to rain on my sunny days, wee sparrow? Do you still want to pursue your questions, when the cost may be more than they’re worth?”

By now, Sunshine’s grip tightens around the bird.

“Ignorance is bliss, little sparrow.”

His smile never fades as he squeezes harder.

“If we would all just smile, Arcadia would be a happier place. Don’t you want us all to get along?”

“Stop asking questions, Sparrow, and just… smile.”