The Day the Leaves Began to Sing

One chilly afternoon, as the sun melted behind the trees and the sky blushed with pink and purple, something strange and lovely happened. The wind picked up, soft and slow, and the leaves began to fall—not in silence, but in song.

Tilly paused on a mossy log, ears twitching. The leaves weren’t just falling, they were whispering lullabies as they floated down. Each one hummed a note in a language only the forest understood:

“Hush now, hush now, the day is done,
Drift on breezes, one by one.
Fall and twirl, slow and deep,
Carry all to gentle sleep…”

Tilly’s eyes sparkled. “They're dancing too,” she whispered.

The Forest’s Gentle Goodnight

As the stars blinked through the treetops, the forest whispered a final lullaby. Tilly’s little chest rose and fell as she dreamed of leafy dances and golden skies.

And from that night on, every autumn evening, the forest remembered Tilly’s dance. Leaves still twirled, the wind still hummed, and somewhere between the hush and color, a squirrel's heart still leapt with joy.

So if you ever see leaves drifting like dancers in the fall, listen closely. You might hear a lullaby. And if you're lucky, you just might spot a flash of fur and a tiny paw mid-twirl.

The End !