Latest / Muggle Snuggle: A Boring Harry Potter Podcast to make you Sleep / Odile and the Moonflowers of Lanternmere

Transcript

Odile and the Moonflowers of Lanternmere · Muggle Snuggle: A Boring Harry Potter Podcast to make you Sleep

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: Againly, my friend, and welcome. Come in, come in. Pull
• 0:05
  Speaker 1: the blanket up to your chin, or the quilt, or
• 0:09
  Speaker 1: whatever soft thing is nearest to your hand, and let
• 0:12
  Speaker 1: the day slide off your shoulders like a coat you
• 0:15
  Speaker 1: no longer need. You have arrived at Muggle Snuggle, a
• 0:19
  Speaker 1: small and warm room made of voice and quiet built
• 0:23
  Speaker 1: by Hustle Studios for one gentle purpose— It is here
• 0:28
  Speaker 1: for the ordinary folk of the world, the ones who
• 0:31
  Speaker 1: have never found a hidden door in a brick wall
• 0:34
  Speaker 1: and who would love to hear about such doors anyway,
• 0:38
  Speaker 1: told slowly by a friend as the lights go low.
• 0:43
  Speaker 1: I am your storyteller for the evening. If this is
• 0:47
  Speaker 1: the first time you have joined us, hello and thank
• 0:51
  Speaker 1: you for choosing to spend your night here. There is
• 0:54
  Speaker 1: nothing you need to do and nothing you need to remember.
• 0:58
  Speaker 1: You do not have to follow every word. You can
• 1:01
  Speaker 1: drift in and out like a boat on a calm pond,
• 1:05
  Speaker 1: and the story will wait for you each time you return.
• 1:12
  Speaker 1: If you are an old friend of the show, hello again.
• 1:15
  Speaker 1: I am so glad you came back. It means a
• 1:19
  Speaker 1: great deal to have you here. To all of our
• 1:22
  Speaker 1: regular listeners, the ones who arrive night after night and
• 1:26
  Speaker 1: settle in without any fuss, I want to say a
• 1:30
  Speaker 1: warm thank you. You are the reason this room has
• 1:33
  Speaker 1: a lamp lit in the window, and to anyone who
• 1:37
  Speaker 1: has only just wandered in, welcome. Take the good chair
• 1:41
  Speaker 1: by the fire. There is plenty of room, and nobody
• 1:45
  Speaker 1: here is in a hurry. Whoever you are tonight, whatever
• 1:49
  Speaker 1: sort of day you've had, You are welcome exactly as
• 1:53
  Speaker 1: you are. This episode is made to keep you company.
• 1:58
  Speaker 1: It is perfect to put on while you tidy the kitchen,
• 2:01
  Speaker 1: fold the washing, answer a few last messages, or finally
• 2:06
  Speaker 1: lie down in the dark. It works just as well
• 2:10
  Speaker 1: playing softly in the background while you work or while
• 2:13
  Speaker 1: you rest. You are free to fall asleep at any point.
• 2:17
  Speaker 1: In fact, I would be quite pleased if you did.
• 2:25
  Speaker 1: If you wake in the small hours and find the
• 2:28
  Speaker 1: voice still murmuring, simply smile, turn over, and let it
• 2:32
  Speaker 1: carry on for you before we begin. One small favor,
• 2:36
  Speaker 1: and only if you feel like it, if you enjoy
• 2:39
  Speaker 1: these tales, please subscribe or follow the show so that
• 2:43
  Speaker 1: new stories find their way to you without any effort.
• 2:47
  Speaker 1: If you know someone who struggles to sleep or who
• 2:50
  Speaker 1: simply loves a cozy tale, please share this with them.
• 2:53
  Speaker 1: A kind word or a rating helps other tired people
• 2:56
  Speaker 1: find this little room. Now, with that done, let us
• 3:00
  Speaker 1: put the world down for a while and begin. Take
• 3:04
  Speaker 1: a slow breath in through your nose. Let it fill
• 3:07
  Speaker 1: you gently, all the way down, the way warm water
• 3:11
  Speaker 1: fills a bath. Hold it for one soft moment. Then
• 3:15
  Speaker 1: let it out through your mouth, long and slow, as
• 3:19
  Speaker 1: though you were fogging a cold window pane. Again in
• 3:23
  Speaker 1: through the nose, slow and easy. A small hold, then
• 3:28
  Speaker 1: out long and loose, letting your shoulders drop with it.
• 3:36
  Speaker 1: You're not trying to do this well. You're only letting
• 3:40
  Speaker 1: your breath be slow, and slow is something your body
• 3:43
  Speaker 1: already knows how to do. Feel the weight of your
• 3:46
  Speaker 1: head on the pillow. Let it be heavy. Feel the
• 3:50
  Speaker 1: weight of your arms. and let them rest wherever they like.
• 3:54
  Speaker 1: Your hands can be open or curled. It does not matter.
• 3:58
  Speaker 1: Feel your legs grow warm and loose, as if they
• 4:01
  Speaker 1: were made of fresh baked bread. Feel your feet, those
• 4:06
  Speaker 1: faithful travelers, finally allowed to stop. Each breath out carries
• 4:11
  Speaker 1: away a little more of the day. The errands, the voices,
• 4:16
  Speaker 1: the small worries that kept knocking on the door of
• 4:19
  Speaker 1: your mind. They can wait outside. The door is closed,
• 4:24
  Speaker 1: and the room is warm. Now picture a village. It
• 4:28
  Speaker 1: is called Lanternmere, and it sits in a green fold
• 4:32
  Speaker 1: of the hills, beside a pond so still that the
• 4:35
  Speaker 1: stars lie down in it every night. The houses are
• 4:43
  Speaker 1: crooked and kind, with slate roofs and chimneys that lean
• 4:47
  Speaker 1: toward one another like old friends sharing a secret. In
• 4:51
  Speaker 1: the evening, little lamps are lit in the windows, one
• 4:55
  Speaker 1: after another, until the whole village glows like a handful
• 4:59
  Speaker 1: of embers cupped in a dark palm. There is a
• 5:03
  Speaker 1: bakery at the corner, a bridge over a trickling stream,
• 5:07
  Speaker 1: and a green with one great chestnut tree in the middle.
• 5:12
  Speaker 1: It smells of wood smoke and rain. At the far
• 5:16
  Speaker 1: end of the village there is a lane, narrow and winding.
• 5:20
  Speaker 1: which the people call Lantern Lane. It is lined with
• 5:24
  Speaker 1: old stone walls, soft with moss, and in the daytime
• 5:28
  Speaker 1: it is the quietest lane you could imagine. Hardly anyone
• 5:32
  Speaker 1: walks it. A few sheep wander by now and then.
• 5:36
  Speaker 1: A wren sings on the wall. But in the evening
• 5:40
  Speaker 1: something changes. As the sky turns from gold to rose
• 5:44
  Speaker 1: to deep blue, a faint light appears at the very
• 5:48
  Speaker 1: end of the lane. small and steady, the color of
• 5:52
  Speaker 1: milk with a drop of silver in it. That light
• 6:00
  Speaker 1: is the lamp that hangs at the gate of a garden.
• 6:03
  Speaker 1: It is not a garden you would find on any map,
• 6:06
  Speaker 1: and yet it has been there longer than the oldest
• 6:09
  Speaker 1: house in the village. A low wall circles it, thick
• 6:13
  Speaker 1: with ivy. A wooden gate, silvered by weather, stands slightly open.
• 6:19
  Speaker 1: Beyond the gate there are paths, and beds, and rows
• 6:22
  Speaker 1: of green leaves, and a small cottage with a crooked
• 6:26
  Speaker 1: chimney that always seems to be smoking just a little,
• 6:31
  Speaker 1: even in summer. And in that garden, every night, a
• 6:35
  Speaker 1: quiet kind of wonder takes place. The people of Lantern
• 6:39
  Speaker 1: Mare know about the garden in the way that people
• 6:42
  Speaker 1: in small villages know about most things without ever quite
• 6:46
  Speaker 1: saying them out loud. They do not gossip about it,
• 6:50
  Speaker 1: and they do not go poking about the gate after dark.
• 6:53
  Speaker 1: They simply nod toward the end of the lane when
• 6:56
  Speaker 1: a child asks where the light come from, and they
• 7:00
  Speaker 1: say in soft voices that it is the night garden
• 7:04
  Speaker 1: and that it is looking after them. Mothers tell it
• 7:12
  Speaker 1: to babies who will not settle. Old men mention it
• 7:15
  Speaker 1: to one another over the chessboard at the inn, between
• 7:19
  Speaker 1: slow moves. The baker leaves a small paper bag of
• 7:23
  Speaker 1: crests on the wall by the gate on cold mornings,
• 7:27
  Speaker 1: and nobody ever asks who eats them. It is the
• 7:30
  Speaker 1: sort of place that a village keeps the way you
• 7:33
  Speaker 1: keep a smooth pebble in your pocket, turning it over
• 7:36
  Speaker 1: now and then for comfort, never needing to take it
• 7:39
  Speaker 1: out and show anyone. And so the lamp at the
• 7:43
  Speaker 1: end of the lane burns on, quiet and patient, through
• 7:48
  Speaker 1: rain and frost and long summer dusks, and the people
• 7:52
  Speaker 1: of Lantern Mirror sleep a little more soundly for knowing
• 7:55
  Speaker 1: that it is there, keeping its gentle watch over every
• 7:59
  Speaker 1: one of them. Stay with me now. Let your breathing
• 8:03
  Speaker 1: be slow and your body be soft. We're going to
• 8:07
  Speaker 1: walk down Lantern Lane together, you and I, in the
• 8:10
  Speaker 1: blue of the evening, with the stars just beginning to
• 8:14
  Speaker 1: wake overhead. Our footsteps will be light. Our voices, if
• 8:23
  Speaker 1: we speak at all, will be low, and at the
• 8:27
  Speaker 1: end of the lane, under the milky lamp, We will
• 8:30
  Speaker 1: meet someone who has spent a very long time looking
• 8:34
  Speaker 1: after the most gentle flowers in the world. Her name
• 8:38
  Speaker 1: is Otiel Thistlewood. She is waiting for us. She always is.
• 9:00
  Speaker 1: Odell Thistlewood was a small woman, not much taller than
• 9:04
  Speaker 1: a garden gate, with a round and withered face and
• 9:07
  Speaker 1: a great deal of silver hair that she pinned up
• 9:10
  Speaker 1: in a bun and then promptly forgot about, so that
• 9:14
  Speaker 1: by evening it was always coming loose in friendly strands.
• 9:18
  Speaker 1: She wore a long green coat with deep pockets, and
• 9:22
  Speaker 1: in those pockets she carried a surprising assortment of things,
• 9:27
  Speaker 1: a ball of twine, a stub of pencil, a handful
• 9:30
  Speaker 1: of seeds wrapped in paper, a small brass whistle, and
• 9:34
  Speaker 1: very often, a biscuit saved for later and then forgotten.
• 9:40
  Speaker 1: Her boots were old and soft and had walked this
• 9:43
  Speaker 1: garden ten thousand times. She was, as the villagers said
• 9:48
  Speaker 1: in low and affectionate voices, the night gardener. Most gardeners
• 9:53
  Speaker 1: work by day. When the sun is high and the
• 9:56
  Speaker 1: soil is warm and then they go home and put
• 9:59
  Speaker 1: their boots by the door. But Odile worked by night.
• 10:07
  Speaker 1: Her task began when the first star came out and
• 10:11
  Speaker 1: ended when the last one faded, and in all the
• 10:14
  Speaker 1: years she had kept the garden. She had never once
• 10:18
  Speaker 1: complained about the hours. She liked the night. She liked
• 10:22
  Speaker 1: the way it softened everything, the way it made even
• 10:26
  Speaker 1: a spade look like a sleepy animal. In her left hand,
• 10:31
  Speaker 1: she carried her lantern. It was an old thing, made
• 10:35
  Speaker 1: of brass and green-tinted glass, with a handle worn smooth
• 10:40
  Speaker 1: by decades of holding. Inside the glass there burned no
• 10:45
  Speaker 1: ordinary flame, It was a pale, cool glow, a little
• 10:49
  Speaker 1: like moonlight that had been taught to sit still, and
• 10:52
  Speaker 1: it never flickered and never smoked. It lit the ground
• 10:57
  Speaker 1: in a soft round puddle all about her feet, and
• 11:01
  Speaker 1: it did not frighten the moths. Some nights, they gathered
• 11:05
  Speaker 1: around it in a slow, silent halo, as if they
• 11:09
  Speaker 1: too were listening for something. In her right hand, she
• 11:14
  Speaker 1: carried a watering can. It was long-spatted and a little dented,
• 11:23
  Speaker 1: painted blue long ago, and now mostly the color of
• 11:27
  Speaker 1: the sky, just before rain. She filled it every evening
• 11:32
  Speaker 1: from a stone barrel under the eaves of her cottage,
• 11:35
  Speaker 1: where the water lay very still, holding a small round
• 11:39
  Speaker 1: reflection of whatever the sky was doing. Odile always said
• 11:44
  Speaker 1: that the water for her flowers must be fetched at dusk,
• 11:47
  Speaker 1: when it was cool and calm, and carried without rushing,
• 11:51
  Speaker 1: because a hurried watering can make for nervous blooms. She
• 11:56
  Speaker 1: had two companions. The first was a tortoise named Sorrel,
• 12:00
  Speaker 1: who was older than the garden wall and moved with
• 12:03
  Speaker 1: the careful dignity of someone who had seen everything twice.
• 12:07
  Speaker 1: Sorrel had a shill pattern like a patchwork of old
• 12:10
  Speaker 1: brown maps, and a way of closing one eye very
• 12:14
  Speaker 1: slowly when he approved of something. He walked the paths
• 12:18
  Speaker 1: behind Odile, a great many paces behind, and always arrived
• 12:23
  Speaker 1: at each flower bed, just as she was leaving it.
• 12:31
  Speaker 1: Somehow this never seemed to trouble either of them. The
• 12:35
  Speaker 1: second companion was a small grey owl named Penny Royal.
• 12:40
  Speaker 1: She lived in a hollow of the old pear tree
• 12:43
  Speaker 1: beside the cottage, and she kept the garden's secrets, which
• 12:47
  Speaker 1: were many, and carried its messages, which were few. When
• 12:51
  Speaker 1: she flew, she made no sound at all, only a
• 12:55
  Speaker 1: slight stirring of the air, like someone turning over in bed.
• 12:59
  Speaker 1: She would settle on Odile's shoulder, or on the handle
• 13:03
  Speaker 1: of the lantern, or on the top of the gate,
• 13:06
  Speaker 1: and she would look about with big round eyes, the
• 13:09
  Speaker 1: color of warm honey, taking in every leaf, so there
• 13:13
  Speaker 1: they were. Every evening, the three of them and the lantern,
• 13:18
  Speaker 1: Odile with her watering can, Sorrel with his slow patience,
• 13:23
  Speaker 1: and Penny Royal with her silent wings, they would stand
• 13:26
  Speaker 1: together at the gate and watch the last light drain
• 13:29
  Speaker 1: from the sky. And when the first star appeared, Odile
• 13:38
  Speaker 1: would take a deep breath the way you might before singing,
• 13:42
  Speaker 1: and she would say softly to the garden, as she
• 13:45
  Speaker 1: had said it every night for forty years, Good evening,
• 13:49
  Speaker 1: my dears. Let us see who is dreaming. Her cottage,
• 13:53
  Speaker 1: I should say, was every bit as gentle as she was.
• 13:58
  Speaker 1: It had one round room downstairs with a stone hearth
• 14:01
  Speaker 1: and a black kettle that lived on a hook above
• 14:04
  Speaker 1: the fire. Always warm, always ready. There was a rocking
• 14:09
  Speaker 1: chair with a patchwork cushion, a shelf of chipped blue cups,
• 14:13
  Speaker 1: and a long wooden table covered in seed packets, scraps
• 14:17
  Speaker 1: of twine, and jars of dried petals that she used
• 14:21
  Speaker 1: for tea. Above the table hung bundles of lavender and mint,
• 14:26
  Speaker 1: drying upside down like sleeping bats, and they filled the
• 14:30
  Speaker 1: room with a clean, green smell. In the corner stood
• 14:34
  Speaker 1: a tall cupboard where she kept her great leather ledger,
• 14:37
  Speaker 1: a book so old that its pages had turned the
• 14:40
  Speaker 1: color of wheat tea. In it every night, before dawn,
• 14:49
  Speaker 1: she wrote down which flowers had bloomed and which had rested,
• 14:54
  Speaker 1: in that same looping hand she used for the markers.
• 14:57
  Speaker 1: She never told anyone what she wrote. It was not
• 15:01
  Speaker 1: a secret, exactly. It was more like a diary of
• 15:05
  Speaker 1: the whole village, kept with love and read by nobody
• 15:09
  Speaker 1: but the fire. On the windowsill sat a single moonflower
• 15:13
  Speaker 1: in a clay pot which belonged to no one at
• 15:16
  Speaker 1: all and which bloomed, she said, only when the cottage
• 15:21
  Speaker 1: itself was content. Now I should tell you what the
• 15:24
  Speaker 1: garden grew. It grew moonflowers, only moonflowers row upon row
• 15:30
  Speaker 1: of them, in beds that curved along the paths like
• 15:34
  Speaker 1: slow green rivers. They were not like the moonflowers you
• 15:38
  Speaker 1: might know from an ordinary gate or trellis. By day
• 15:43
  Speaker 1: they were nothing much to look at, only tight pale
• 15:46
  Speaker 1: badge wrapped in gray-green leaves, folded as neatly as a
• 15:51
  Speaker 1: letter in an envelope. A passing stranger, might have said
• 15:55
  Speaker 1: it was a garden of sleeping things, and that, in fact,
• 16:03
  Speaker 1: was exactly what it was. For every person who slept
• 16:08
  Speaker 1: in the village of Lanternmere, there was one moon flyer
• 16:11
  Speaker 1: in the garden, not a flower for each house, but
• 16:15
  Speaker 1: a flower for each sleeper, baby, grandmother, baker, ferryman, schoolteacher,
• 16:23
  Speaker 1: all of them. Odeling had never planted a single one.
• 16:28
  Speaker 1: They simply appeared, each in its own good time when
• 16:32
  Speaker 1: a person came to live in the village, and each
• 16:35
  Speaker 1: one carried a small wooden marker with a name written
• 16:38
  Speaker 1: on it in Odiel's careful, looping handwriting. A new baby,
• 16:43
  Speaker 1: a new bud, a new neighbor, a new bud. And
• 16:48
  Speaker 1: here was the secret, the lovely secret, that Odiel kept
• 16:53
  Speaker 1: so gently. These moonflowers bloomed only when the person they
• 16:58
  Speaker 1: belonged to was having a kind dream. Not just any dream,
• 17:02
  Speaker 1: mind you. A dream of kindness. A dream of helping
• 17:07
  Speaker 1: or being helped. Of sharing a loaf. Of finding a
• 17:12
  Speaker 1: lost thing. Of being forgiven. Of forgiving. When such a
• 17:21
  Speaker 1: dream began... far off in some warm bed across the village,
• 17:26
  Speaker 1: the bud in the garden would shiver, and then slowly, slowly,
• 17:31
  Speaker 1: it would open, petal by petal, into a great pale
• 17:35
  Speaker 1: bloom that glowed like a small, quiet moon. When a
• 17:39
  Speaker 1: moonflower opened, it sent a thread of soft light, and
• 17:44
  Speaker 1: sent drifting out over the garden wall, down Lantern Lane,
• 17:48
  Speaker 1: across the roofs, until it found the window of the
• 17:51
  Speaker 1: sleeper it belonged to. There it settled, as lightly as
• 17:55
  Speaker 1: a breath, and made the dream a little kinder still.
• 17:59
  Speaker 1: It was a kind of conversation between the sleeper and
• 18:02
  Speaker 1: the garden, carried on without any words. Odile's work was
• 18:07
  Speaker 1: to listen, to tend, to water, and to keep the
• 18:11
  Speaker 1: garden ready, so that every flower had what it needed
• 18:15
  Speaker 1: to open when its moment came. Tonight, as always, She
• 18:20
  Speaker 1: hung the lantern on its hook beside the gate, gave
• 18:23
  Speaker 1: Sorrel a pat on his shill, and set Pennyroyal on
• 18:27
  Speaker 1: the fence post to keep watch. Then she lifted her
• 18:34
  Speaker 1: watering can, turned toward the first long row, and began
• 18:39
  Speaker 1: to walk. Her boots made a soft, regular sound on
• 18:44
  Speaker 1: the path. The air smelled of cool earth and green leaves.
• 18:49
  Speaker 1: and very faintly of something sweeter like honey and rain
• 18:54
  Speaker 1: come along with me now we will follow her down
• 18:57
  Speaker 1: the first path slowly slowly and see what the night
• 19:01
  Speaker 1: has in store The first row ran along the eastern wall,
• 19:22
  Speaker 1: where the ivy hung thick and dark, and it was
• 19:25
  Speaker 1: always the row Odiel visited first, because it held the
• 19:29
  Speaker 1: oldest flowers in the garden. These were the moonflowers of
• 19:33
  Speaker 1: the longest-living villagers, and their stems were as thick as
• 19:37
  Speaker 1: a thumb, their leaves broad and leathery, their buds fat
• 19:41
  Speaker 1: and pale and smooth. She walked slowly down the path
• 19:45
  Speaker 1: with her watering can swaying gently at her side. stopping
• 19:49
  Speaker 1: at each marker, reading the name, and tipping a little
• 19:53
  Speaker 1: water around the root. Good evening, Mistress Perpetua, she murmured
• 19:58
  Speaker 1: to the first. I trust you are well tonight. Perpetua
• 20:03
  Speaker 1: Marsh was ninety years old and kept hens and knitted
• 20:07
  Speaker 1: socks for anyone who stood still long enough. Her bud
• 20:12
  Speaker 1: was resting, tight and quiet, but Odiel could feel, through
• 20:17
  Speaker 1: the leaves, a faint warmth. It meant that Perpetua was
• 20:22
  Speaker 1: falling asleep. Dreams were on their way. She smiled and
• 20:31
  Speaker 1: moved on, and the flower behind her gave the smallest
• 20:34
  Speaker 1: sigh of a rustle, like a page being turned. Next
• 20:39
  Speaker 1: came the ferryman's flower, which belonged to a quiet man
• 20:43
  Speaker 1: named Tobias Reed who rode people across the pond on
• 20:47
  Speaker 1: market days and never charged a penny to anyone who
• 20:51
  Speaker 1: looked tired. His flower leaned toward the water, as if
• 20:55
  Speaker 1: listening for oars. Odiel poured a thread of silver water
• 21:00
  Speaker 1: around its base and said, A good night to you,
• 21:04
  Speaker 1: Master Reed. The bud swayed very slightly. There was a
• 21:09
  Speaker 1: patience about it, the patience of a boat tied up
• 21:12
  Speaker 1: at last after a long day, rocking gently on its rope.
• 21:17
  Speaker 1: Beyond that was the baker's flower, round and plump and
• 21:21
  Speaker 1: rather proud, and Odiel always spoke to it in a
• 21:24
  Speaker 1: slightly cheerful voice, because the baker, Hester Plum, woke before
• 21:30
  Speaker 1: dawn and went to bed before the stars were properly out,
• 21:34
  Speaker 1: and her dreams, when they came, were always about warm things. Loaves, mostly, buns.
• 21:43
  Speaker 1: A tray of something golden. Adiel watered the flower and
• 21:52
  Speaker 1: chuckled to herself. She had once seen it bloom in
• 21:55
  Speaker 1: the shape of a perfect round roll, and she had
• 21:58
  Speaker 1: never quite forgotten it. All this time, as she walked,
• 22:03
  Speaker 1: Odile hummed. It was an old tune with no words,
• 22:08
  Speaker 1: slow and wandering, a little like the sound of wind
• 22:11
  Speaker 1: in a chimney. She did not hum for the flower's
• 22:15
  Speaker 1: sake exactly. She hummed because it kept her company, and
• 22:20
  Speaker 1: because a humming gardener is a calm gardener, and a
• 22:23
  Speaker 1: calm gardener makes a calm garden. Sorup flotted along the
• 22:28
  Speaker 1: path behind her, a very long way behind, and Pennyroll
• 22:33
  Speaker 1: drifted from post to post above, her wings making no
• 22:37
  Speaker 1: more sound than a shadow. Soon the first flowers of
• 22:41
  Speaker 1: the night began to open. You might like to picture it,
• 22:45
  Speaker 1: just for a moment. because it is a lovely thing
• 22:48
  Speaker 1: to picture. In this third row, a bud belonging to
• 22:52
  Speaker 1: the schoolmistress trembled, gave a small shiver, and then, one
• 22:58
  Speaker 1: pale petal at a time unfolded. It was a flower
• 23:05
  Speaker 1: the size of a dinner plate with a soft white
• 23:08
  Speaker 1: center that gave off a faint silver light, and its
• 23:11
  Speaker 1: scent was like the first page of a new book.
• 23:15
  Speaker 1: The glow rose from it like mist from a pond.
• 23:18
  Speaker 1: It drifted up, over the wall, toward the sleeping village,
• 23:23
  Speaker 1: and was gone. Odile paused and put her hand to
• 23:27
  Speaker 1: her heart as she always did, no matter how many
• 23:30
  Speaker 1: times she saw it. The first bloom of an evening
• 23:34
  Speaker 1: moved her. There you are, she whispered. A kind dream.
• 23:39
  Speaker 1: Very good. And she stood a moment in the light
• 23:42
  Speaker 1: of it, letting it wash over her coat and her
• 23:45
  Speaker 1: face and her silver hair before moving on to the
• 23:49
  Speaker 1: next bed, where a pair of buds, side by side
• 23:53
  Speaker 1: on one stem, belonged to the Fenwater twins, two little
• 23:58
  Speaker 1: girls who always dreamed together. They opened at almost the
• 24:03
  Speaker 1: same moment, those two, with a tiny pair of sighs,
• 24:07
  Speaker 1: and the light from them was a little pink at
• 24:09
  Speaker 1: the edges, like a sky just after sunset. They were
• 24:17
  Speaker 1: dreaming of a great picnic on the green, Odie guessed.
• 24:22
  Speaker 1: With every child in the village invited and a long
• 24:25
  Speaker 1: table of lemon cake, she laughed softly. It gave her
• 24:30
  Speaker 1: the same comfortable feeling that a warm cup of tea
• 24:33
  Speaker 1: gives to cold hands. All through the garden, one by one,
• 24:37
  Speaker 1: the flyers began to glow. Between the blooms, there was
• 24:42
  Speaker 1: ordinary garden work to be done, and Odie did it
• 24:45
  Speaker 1: without any hurry. She knelt now and then to pull
• 24:49
  Speaker 1: a stray dandelion, thinking it politely before setting it in
• 24:53
  Speaker 1: her pocket because she said even a weed deserved good manners.
• 24:59
  Speaker 1: She lifted a fallen leaf from the heart of a
• 25:01
  Speaker 1: bud where it had settled like a blanket pulled too high.
• 25:05
  Speaker 1: She found a fat brown snail making its slow way
• 25:09
  Speaker 1: toward the cobbler's flower and and she picked it up
• 25:12
  Speaker 1: with great care and carried it, all the way to
• 25:15
  Speaker 1: the hedge at the end of the row where the
• 25:17
  Speaker 1: dock leaves grew thick and tasty. There you are, little traveler,
• 25:22
  Speaker 1: she told it. Much better eating here, and no dreams
• 25:30
  Speaker 1: to nibble. The snail put out its horns, considered the matter,
• 25:34
  Speaker 1: and seemed to agree. Further along, she paused to retie
• 25:38
  Speaker 1: a marker that had worked loose in the wind, winding
• 25:42
  Speaker 1: fresh twine around the little wooden stake until it stood
• 25:45
  Speaker 1: straight and proud again. The name on it belonged to
• 25:49
  Speaker 1: a young shepherd who had come to the village only
• 25:52
  Speaker 1: last spring. His bud was not yet open, but it
• 25:56
  Speaker 1: was warm and Adi gave it an extra splash of
• 25:59
  Speaker 1: water for luck and went on her way humming. By
• 26:02
  Speaker 1: the time she reached the middle of the garden, The
• 26:06
  Speaker 1: whole place was lit with a gentle, silvery light, like
• 26:10
  Speaker 1: a field after a fresh fall of snow, though there
• 26:13
  Speaker 1: was no snow, and the air was mild. Great pale
• 26:17
  Speaker 1: blossoms nodded on every side, and the paths were dappled
• 26:21
  Speaker 1: with a hundred quiet moons. The scent was something close
• 26:25
  Speaker 1: to peace, if peace had a smell. Deal walked on
• 26:33
  Speaker 1: through it all, her boots whispering on the gravel, and
• 26:37
  Speaker 1: she felt, as she always did, that the garden was
• 26:41
  Speaker 1: breathing along with the village. It was in the middle
• 26:45
  Speaker 1: of the fourth row, just as she bent to water
• 26:48
  Speaker 1: the flower of the old miller, that Penny Royal gave
• 26:51
  Speaker 1: a sudden low hoot from the gatepost. It was a small,
• 26:56
  Speaker 1: polite hoot, nothing alarming, the kind of sound an owl
• 27:00
  Speaker 1: makes when she wishes to say, excuse me, There is
• 27:05
  Speaker 1: someone here. Odiel straightened up, set down her watering can,
• 27:10
  Speaker 1: and turned toward the gate, her lantern light swinging. Sorrel,
• 27:16
  Speaker 1: far behind, closed one eye very slowly, which meant he
• 27:20
  Speaker 1: had noticed as well. There, standing just outside the gate,
• 27:25
  Speaker 1: with one hand still resting on the silvered wood, was
• 27:29
  Speaker 1: a child. A small boy, perhaps nine years old, in
• 27:34
  Speaker 1: a nightshirt and a too-large woolen cardigan, with bare feet
• 27:39
  Speaker 1: and very tousled hair. He was looking at the garden
• 27:47
  Speaker 1: with his mouth slightly open, as if he had walked
• 27:50
  Speaker 1: into a dream by mistake. The light of the flyers
• 27:53
  Speaker 1: shone in his wide, dark eyes, he looked as though
• 27:56
  Speaker 1: he had been walking a long time, and he looked,
• 27:59
  Speaker 1: above all, very, very tired. Odijo did not startle, and
• 28:05
  Speaker 1: she did not scold. She had met many visitors in
• 28:08
  Speaker 1: her years at the garden, most of them moths and hedgehogs,
• 28:12
  Speaker 1: and she had learned that the best thing to do
• 28:14
  Speaker 1: with a surprised creature is to be still and kind.
• 28:18
  Speaker 1: She lifted her lantern a little, so that the light
• 28:21
  Speaker 1: fell gently on her face, and she said, in her warm,
• 28:26
  Speaker 1: rumbling voice, Well now. Good evening, young traveler. You have
• 28:32
  Speaker 1: found the garden. Would you like to come in and
• 28:36
  Speaker 1: sit down for a moment? The boy hesitated at the gate.
• 28:56
  Speaker 1: He glanced behind him, down the dark length of the lane,
• 29:00
  Speaker 1: and then back at the glowing garden, and then at
• 29:04
  Speaker 1: the small old woman with her silver hair and her
• 29:07
  Speaker 1: green coat. Penny Royal swiveled her head and regarded him
• 29:12
  Speaker 1: with her honey-colored eyes. Something in the quiet of that
• 29:16
  Speaker 1: look must have reassured him, because he nodded, pushed the
• 29:20
  Speaker 1: gate open a little wider, and stepped in on his
• 29:23
  Speaker 1: cold bare feet. I could not sleep, he said in
• 29:28
  Speaker 1: a very small voice. I tried and tried, and then
• 29:33
  Speaker 1: I saw a light at the end of the lane
• 29:36
  Speaker 1: from my window. So I came to look, he swallowed.
• 29:40
  Speaker 1: I am sorry. I did not mean to trespass. You
• 29:45
  Speaker 1: are not trespassing, said Odile. You are visiting. There is
• 29:50
  Speaker 1: a great difference. She set her lantern on a flat
• 29:54
  Speaker 1: stone and unbuttoned her green coat, which was far too
• 29:59
  Speaker 1: big for him, and wrapped it around his shoulders. It
• 30:03
  Speaker 1: smelled of earth and mint and old wood smoke. He
• 30:07
  Speaker 1: sank into it gratefully. What is your name, my dear? Wistan,
• 30:16
  Speaker 1: he said. Wistan Ashby. We moved to Lantern Mirror three
• 30:21
  Speaker 1: weeks ago. My mother is the new gookbinder. She works late,
• 30:27
  Speaker 1: and the house is still full of boxes. And I
• 30:30
  Speaker 1: do not know anybody yet. His voice wobbled, just a little,
• 30:35
  Speaker 1: on that last part like a candle flame in a draught.
• 30:39
  Speaker 1: Then he straightened. It is a very nice village, though.
• 30:44
  Speaker 1: I do like it. Odile nodded slowly, as if he
• 30:48
  Speaker 1: had said something wise. Three weeks, she said. Then you
• 30:53
  Speaker 1: will be somewhere near the end of the second row.
• 30:56
  Speaker 1: Come and see. She took the lantern in one hand
• 31:00
  Speaker 1: and Whiston's small cold hand in the other, and she
• 31:03
  Speaker 1: led him down the path. Sorrel, who had at last
• 31:07
  Speaker 1: arrived at the place where Odile had been standing, found
• 31:11
  Speaker 1: himself alone and closed one eye with great dignity and
• 31:15
  Speaker 1: began the long walk to wherever she had gone next.
• 31:23
  Speaker 1: They passed through the shining beds, and Whiston walked with
• 31:27
  Speaker 1: his head tipped back, looking at the glowing blossoms on
• 31:31
  Speaker 1: every side. Are they real? he whispered. They look like
• 31:36
  Speaker 1: little moons, Odall said they were as real as bread
• 31:40
  Speaker 1: and as old as rain, and that they belong to
• 31:43
  Speaker 1: the sleeping folk of the village. He asked what that meant,
• 31:47
  Speaker 1: and so, in her low and unhurried voice, she told
• 31:51
  Speaker 1: him about the garden, how every sleeper had a flower,
• 31:55
  Speaker 1: and how each one opened only for a kind dream.
• 31:59
  Speaker 1: Whiston listened, astonished, his bare feet padding along the gravel.
• 32:05
  Speaker 1: When she finished, he was quiet for several paces. Then
• 32:09
  Speaker 1: he said, rather shyly,' Does my mother have one?' Oda
• 32:14
  Speaker 1: smiled and said, of course she did, and led him
• 32:18
  Speaker 1: to a bed near the end of the second row. There,
• 32:22
  Speaker 1: among the green leaves, stood a freshly opened bloom of
• 32:26
  Speaker 1: the softest gold, with a little wooden marker bearing the
• 32:30
  Speaker 1: Neen Ashby and a second flower, still shut, close beside it.
• 32:41
  Speaker 1: That one is yours. He knelt down on the damp
• 32:44
  Speaker 1: earth and looked at his own flower. It was a small,
• 32:48
  Speaker 1: round bud, pale as a pearl, with the faintest blush
• 32:52
  Speaker 1: of silver along its seams. It was not open, and
• 32:56
  Speaker 1: Odalie did not seem worried. You are not dreaming yet,
• 33:00
  Speaker 1: she said gently. You have not even fallen asleep. It
• 33:05
  Speaker 1: will open when you do, if your dream is a
• 33:08
  Speaker 1: kind one. And it usually is, you know. The flowers
• 33:12
  Speaker 1: know us better than we know ourselves. He touched a
• 33:16
  Speaker 1: leaf with one careful finger and the leaf seemed to
• 33:20
  Speaker 1: lean toward him. Is there any flower that does not open,
• 33:24
  Speaker 1: he asked. It was a thoughtful sort of question, the
• 33:28
  Speaker 1: kind a child asks when he is half asleep and
• 33:31
  Speaker 1: has stopped being afraid. Odoli did not answer at once.
• 33:36
  Speaker 1: She looked down the long, glowing paths and her face
• 33:40
  Speaker 1: took on a gentle, faraway look as though she were
• 33:44
  Speaker 1: gazing at an old friend across a wide field. Yes,
• 33:48
  Speaker 1: she said at last. There is one. Come and I
• 33:52
  Speaker 1: will show you. But you must promise to be gentle.
• 34:01
  Speaker 1: It is a tender thing. Whiston promised very solemnly with
• 34:06
  Speaker 1: his hand pressed flat against his heart. and they set
• 34:10
  Speaker 1: off again along the paths. On the way, Odie's pointed
• 34:14
  Speaker 1: out flowers to him, one after another, the way you
• 34:18
  Speaker 1: might point out the houses of friends on an evening stroll.
• 34:22
  Speaker 1: There was the flower of the woman who ran the
• 34:24
  Speaker 1: post office, which always opened with a little wrestle like
• 34:29
  Speaker 1: an envelope being torn. There was the flower of the blacksmith,
• 34:34
  Speaker 1: broad and strong, which glowed a warm orange at its
• 34:38
  Speaker 1: center like a forge banked down for the night. There
• 34:42
  Speaker 1: was the flyer of a very small baby, born only
• 34:46
  Speaker 1: a fortnight ago, so tiny that it was barely more
• 34:50
  Speaker 1: than a bead, of light on a thread of green stem,
• 34:54
  Speaker 1: and yet it was open and shining and perfectly content.
• 34:59
  Speaker 1: Babies nearly always dream kindly, Odie said. They have not
• 35:08
  Speaker 1: yet learned any other way. Weston laughed softly at that
• 35:12
  Speaker 1: and then covered his mouth, as if laughing in the
• 35:16
  Speaker 1: garden might wake somebody. Odiel only squeezed his hand. Laugh
• 35:21
  Speaker 1: all you like, she said. The flowers enjoy it. It
• 35:26
  Speaker 1: is the nearest thing they have to sunshine, in the
• 35:29
  Speaker 1: middle of the night. And so he laughed again, a
• 35:32
  Speaker 1: little louder, and a whole bed of blooms seemed to brighten.
• 35:37
  Speaker 1: She led him to the far corner of the garden,
• 35:40
  Speaker 1: beside the old stone wall, where the ivy grew thickest
• 35:44
  Speaker 1: and the light from the other flowers did not quite reach.
• 35:48
  Speaker 1: There in a bed all by itself grew one small
• 35:52
  Speaker 1: plant with gray-green leaves and a single bud, tightly furled,
• 35:57
  Speaker 1: hard as a closed fist. The leaves around it had
• 36:01
  Speaker 1: a slightly tired droop. The wooden marker leaned a little
• 36:05
  Speaker 1: to one side. Whistan crouched beside it and read the name,
• 36:10
  Speaker 1: which was written in Odile's flowing hand. It said simply,
• 36:16
  Speaker 1: Ambrose Quillen. He is the clockmender, Odile said softly. He
• 36:26
  Speaker 1: keeps the little shop at the bottom of the green,
• 36:29
  Speaker 1: the one with all the clocks in the window. He
• 36:32
  Speaker 1: has lived in Lanternmere for sixty years. And in all
• 36:35
  Speaker 1: that time, in all the years since his wife passed away,
• 36:40
  Speaker 1: this bud has not opened. Not once. I water it
• 36:44
  Speaker 1: every night. As I water all the others, I hum
• 36:48
  Speaker 1: to it, I leave it be. But it keeps its
• 36:51
  Speaker 1: petals folded, tight and quiet, as though it were waiting
• 36:55
  Speaker 1: for something. Whiston studied the bud for a long time.
• 37:00
  Speaker 1: In the dim blue light it looked small and stubborn
• 37:03
  Speaker 1: and rather lonely like a child who has been told
• 37:06
  Speaker 1: to wait in the hall. Pennyroyal flew down and settled
• 37:10
  Speaker 1: on the marker and ruffled her feathers and said nothing.
• 37:15
  Speaker 1: Even Sorrel had at last shuffled into view and stopped
• 37:18
  Speaker 1: a few paces away with the air of one who
• 37:22
  Speaker 1: has heard this story before and would very much like
• 37:25
  Speaker 1: it to end well. Does it mean, Whiston asked slowly.
• 37:30
  Speaker 1: that Mr. Cleo is not a kind man. Odile shook
• 37:38
  Speaker 1: her head, and her silver hair came loose from its pins. Oh, no, no,
• 37:43
  Speaker 1: my dear. Not at all. It means only that he
• 37:47
  Speaker 1: has not had a kind dream in a very long time.
• 37:50
  Speaker 1: And that is quite a different thing. A person can
• 37:53
  Speaker 1: be kind all day and still go to bed too
• 37:56
  Speaker 1: sad to dream of it. Kind dreams are like seeds.
• 37:59
  Speaker 1: They need a little soil, a little warmth, and someone
• 38:03
  Speaker 1: now and then to remind them that they are welcome.
• 38:22
  Speaker 1: They sat together on the low stone wall beside the
• 38:26
  Speaker 1: closed bud. the old gardener and the small boy wrapped
• 38:30
  Speaker 1: in the green coat with the glowing garden spread out
• 38:34
  Speaker 1: before them like a quiet sea. Pennyroyal sat on the
• 38:38
  Speaker 1: fence post. Sorrel settled himself in the grass with infinite
• 38:43
  Speaker 1: care and tucked his head partway into his shell. A
• 38:46
  Speaker 1: soft wind moved to the rose and the great pale
• 38:50
  Speaker 1: blossoms swayed on their stems in a slow, sleepy dance.
• 38:55
  Speaker 1: and it seemed to Whiston that the garden was humming
• 38:58
  Speaker 1: along with Adal's tune. I will tell you a thing
• 39:01
  Speaker 1: I have learned, Adal said. In forty years of tending
• 39:05
  Speaker 1: these flowers, a gardener cannot make a moonflower bloom, not
• 39:10
  Speaker 1: with water, not with song, not with all the care
• 39:14
  Speaker 1: in the world. I can keep the soil sweet and
• 39:17
  Speaker 1: the leaves clean and the weeds away, but the opening
• 39:21
  Speaker 1: itself belongs to the sucker. The flower waits for the dream,
• 39:26
  Speaker 1: and the dream waits for the day. What happens in
• 39:33
  Speaker 1: the daylight, in the ordinary hours, is what grows in
• 39:37
  Speaker 1: the dark whist and frowned, thinking hard. So the flower
• 39:41
  Speaker 1: is like a mirror, he said. It shows what the
• 39:45
  Speaker 1: person did. Odile tilted her head, considering it. Not quite
• 39:50
  Speaker 1: a mirror, I think. A mirror shows only what is.
• 39:55
  Speaker 1: A moonflower shows what might be. A person who is
• 39:59
  Speaker 1: given a little kindness in the day carries it home
• 40:02
  Speaker 1: inside them, like a small lamp, and in the night
• 40:06
  Speaker 1: that lamp lights the dream. And if the lamp has
• 40:09
  Speaker 1: been out for a very long time, why someone must
• 40:13
  Speaker 1: light it again? He looked at the clothes bod and
• 40:16
  Speaker 1: then back up at her face. Who lights it? He asked.
• 40:21
  Speaker 1: She smiled at him, a slow, crinkled, tender smile that
• 40:26
  Speaker 1: made her look like the oldest and candest tree in
• 40:29
  Speaker 1: the world. Anyone, she said. That is the loveliest part.
• 40:35
  Speaker 1: Anyone at all. A baker. A ferryman. A neighbor. A
• 40:40
  Speaker 1: person with a loaf of bread. A child with a question.
• 40:44
  Speaker 1: It does not take magic. It takes a morning, and
• 40:52
  Speaker 1: a knock at a door, and a little patience, she
• 40:56
  Speaker 1: told him then, about the winter the two weavers quarreled.
• 41:00
  Speaker 1: They lived side by side on Mill Street, she said,
• 41:04
  Speaker 1: and they had argued over a fence, or a gate,
• 41:07
  Speaker 1: or a cat, nobody could remember which, and for a
• 41:10
  Speaker 1: whole season neither of them would speak. Both of their
• 41:13
  Speaker 1: flowers stayed shut, night after night, tight and gray as frost,
• 41:20
  Speaker 1: Odile had worried over them all winter. And then, one
• 41:24
  Speaker 1: snowy morning, the little girl who delivered milk had slipped
• 41:28
  Speaker 1: on the ice rite between their two front doors, and
• 41:32
  Speaker 1: both weavers had rushed out at once to help her up.
• 41:35
  Speaker 1: They had carried her in together and dried her mittens
• 41:38
  Speaker 1: by the fire and given her hot soup, and somewhere
• 41:42
  Speaker 1: between the soup and the mittens they had begun to
• 41:45
  Speaker 1: talk again, quite as if nothing had happened. That very night,
• 41:50
  Speaker 1: Odell said, her eyes twinkling in the lantern light. Both
• 41:55
  Speaker 1: flowers opened at the same moment. And the milk girl's
• 42:03
  Speaker 1: flower opened too, brighter than I had ever seen it.
• 42:08
  Speaker 1: Three kind dreams from one small tumble on the ice,
• 42:12
  Speaker 1: she chapled softly. Kindness is a bit like a lamp
• 42:16
  Speaker 1: being passed from hand to hand. Nobody needs to carry
• 42:20
  Speaker 1: it far, they only need to pass it on. Whiston
• 42:24
  Speaker 1: let this sink in. The night was very still. Somewhere
• 42:28
  Speaker 1: across the village, a church clock began to strike, slow
• 42:33
  Speaker 1: and soft, the notes falling one by one like drops
• 42:37
  Speaker 1: of water into a well. He counted them without meaning to,
• 42:41
  Speaker 1: and lost count, and did not mind. He was warm
• 42:45
  Speaker 1: inside the coat and his eyelids had grown a little heavy,
• 42:49
  Speaker 1: but a question was circling in his mind like a
• 42:52
  Speaker 1: moth around a lantern, and at last it settled. Mr.
• 42:56
  Speaker 1: Quillon makes clocks, he said. Would he mend a watch?
• 43:01
  Speaker 1: Odile raised her eyebrows. He would, I think, she said.
• 43:06
  Speaker 1: He has mended every clock and watch in Lantamere. Why
• 43:15
  Speaker 1: do you ask? Wistan reached into the pocket of his
• 43:18
  Speaker 1: cardigan and drew out something small and round wrapped in
• 43:22
  Speaker 1: a handkerchief. He unfolded the cloth, and in his palm
• 43:26
  Speaker 1: lay an old silver pocket watch dull with age, its
• 43:30
  Speaker 1: glass cracked across one corner. It was my grandfather's, he said.
• 43:36
  Speaker 1: It stopped when we moved. I have been carrying it everywhere,
• 43:40
  Speaker 1: hoping it would start again. His voice dropped. I did
• 43:43
  Speaker 1: not know who to ask. I did not know anybody.
• 43:47
  Speaker 1: The silence that followed was gentle and unbroken. Othiel reached
• 43:52
  Speaker 1: out and touched the old watch with one finger as
• 43:55
  Speaker 1: one might touch a sleeping bird. I think, she said slowly,
• 44:00
  Speaker 1: that you have just found somebody to ask, and I think,
• 44:04
  Speaker 1: if you will forgive an old gardener for saying so,
• 44:07
  Speaker 1: that the clockmender may need to be asked. just as
• 44:10
  Speaker 1: much as you need to ask him. Wistan looked at
• 44:13
  Speaker 1: the bot again. In the pale light, the tight, gray-green
• 44:18
  Speaker 1: fist seemed a little less lonely than before. You mean,
• 44:26
  Speaker 1: he said, trying the idea carefully, that if I take
• 44:30
  Speaker 1: him the watch, that would be a kind of light?
• 44:34
  Speaker 1: Odile nodded. A tiny one, she said. A very small,
• 44:40
  Speaker 1: very good light. Do not expect a bloom by morning.
• 44:44
  Speaker 1: A flower like that opens in its own time. But
• 44:48
  Speaker 1: a small light carried through a door is never wasted.
• 44:52
  Speaker 1: It goes where it is needed and it stays. He's
• 44:56
  Speaker 1: thought about that for a while. The garden shone around
• 44:59
  Speaker 1: them and the crickets, far off beyond the wall, began
• 45:04
  Speaker 1: a drowsy rhythmic chorus. Whiston wrapped the watch in its
• 45:08
  Speaker 1: handkerchief and tucked it back into his pocket, and he
• 45:12
  Speaker 1: patted it twice, as one pats a small friend. I
• 45:16
  Speaker 1: will go tomorrow, he said, after breakfast. I will take
• 45:21
  Speaker 1: it down to the shop. I will ask him if
• 45:23
  Speaker 1: he can mend it. He yawned, an enormous yawn that
• 45:28
  Speaker 1: made his whole face crumple and his eyes water. That
• 45:32
  Speaker 1: is a very fine plan, said Odile. Her voice was
• 45:40
  Speaker 1: low and warm and slow, the voice of someone tucking
• 45:45
  Speaker 1: in a child at the end of a long day.
• 45:48
  Speaker 1: But first, I think, someone ought to sleep. Penny Royal,
• 45:52
  Speaker 1: would you be so kind as to carry a note
• 45:55
  Speaker 1: to the bookbinder's house? Tell his mother the boy is
• 45:58
  Speaker 1: safe and warm and visiting the garden, and will sleep
• 46:02
  Speaker 1: here by the cottage fire tonight. She will understand. In Lanternmere,
• 46:07
  Speaker 1: they usually do. Pennyroyal gave a soft hoot of agreement,
• 46:12
  Speaker 1: and Odiel pulled a stub of pencil from her coat
• 46:15
  Speaker 1: pocket and scribbled a few lines on a scrap of paper.
• 46:19
  Speaker 1: She tied it with twine to the owl's leg. The
• 46:23
  Speaker 1: little gray bird lifted off from the fence post with
• 46:26
  Speaker 1: no more noise than a thought and glided away over
• 46:29
  Speaker 1: the wall into the dark toward the crooked rooftops. Wistan
• 46:34
  Speaker 1: watched her go. Will she find the house? he asked. Oh, Shueh,
• 46:40
  Speaker 1: said Odiel. She knows every window in this village. He
• 46:49
  Speaker 1: knows which ones have lamps lit for children. They walked
• 46:53
  Speaker 1: back along the path toward the cottage, with Sten's hand
• 46:57
  Speaker 1: in hers, Sorrel plodding slowly behind them, the glowing flowers
• 47:02
  Speaker 1: nodding as they passed. The little boy's feet were cold.
• 47:06
  Speaker 1: but his heart was warm, and he thought very faintly
• 47:11
  Speaker 1: that he had not felt this settled in three weeks.
• 47:14
  Speaker 1: He looked back over his shoulder once toward the far corner,
• 47:18
  Speaker 1: toward the closed gray bud beside the wall. Good night, Mr. Quailon,
• 47:24
  Speaker 1: he whispered. And the bud, in the dark, gave the
• 47:28
  Speaker 1: smallest and most careful tremble. Morning came to Lantan Mira slowly,
• 47:50
  Speaker 1: the way it does in a village that has no
• 47:53
  Speaker 1: reason to hurry. The sky turned from gray to pearl
• 47:57
  Speaker 1: to the softest gold, and the mist lifted from the
• 48:00
  Speaker 1: pond in long lazy ribbons, and the chestnut tree on
• 48:04
  Speaker 1: the green shook the dew from its leaves. Whiston woke
• 48:08
  Speaker 1: on a cot beside the cottage fire, tucked under three
• 48:12
  Speaker 1: wool blankets, with a bowl of warm porridge waiting on
• 48:16
  Speaker 1: a stool beside him. He did not remember falling asleep.
• 48:21
  Speaker 1: He remembered only the garden and the glow and Odile's
• 48:25
  Speaker 1: low humming fading off into the night. He ate his
• 48:30
  Speaker 1: porridge slowly, with honey stirred in, and drank a cup
• 48:34
  Speaker 1: of milk that tasted of clover. Odile, who had not
• 48:38
  Speaker 1: slept at all, which was how it was with night gardeners,
• 48:42
  Speaker 1: sat in her rocking chair with a mug of tea,
• 48:45
  Speaker 1: looking quite content. A note from his mother had arrived
• 48:49
  Speaker 1: in the night, tucked under the cottage door. It said,
• 48:58
  Speaker 1: in a hurried loving hand, that Whiston was to stay
• 49:01
  Speaker 1: as long as he liked and that she would come
• 49:04
  Speaker 1: for him at noon with a basket of bread. He
• 49:07
  Speaker 1: folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket. Nals
• 49:11
  Speaker 1: said odially, getting up with a small creak of her knees.
• 49:16
  Speaker 1: I believe you had an errand. Whiston touched the- handkerchief
• 49:20
  Speaker 1: in his pocket and felt the round shape of the
• 49:23
  Speaker 1: watch inside. A flutter of nerves went through him. It
• 49:28
  Speaker 1: was one thing to say brave words in the dark
• 49:31
  Speaker 1: of a glowing garden. and another to walk into a
• 49:34
  Speaker 1: shop in the plain light of day, but he stood
• 49:37
  Speaker 1: up straight, and Odile gave him her green coat once more,
• 49:42
  Speaker 1: and a biscuit from her pocket, and a small push
• 49:46
  Speaker 1: toward the door. He walked down Lantern Lane alone, with
• 49:50
  Speaker 1: the sheep nibbling the verges, and the wren singing on
• 49:54
  Speaker 1: the wall. The stone path was cool beneath his boots,
• 49:58
  Speaker 1: which he had found by the cottage door a little
• 50:01
  Speaker 1: big but warm, He crossed the little bridge and passed
• 50:09
  Speaker 1: the bakery where Hester Plum waved at him with flour
• 50:13
  Speaker 1: on her hands and cut across the green beneath the
• 50:16
  Speaker 1: great chestnut tree. At the bottom of the green stood
• 50:20
  Speaker 1: a narrow shop with a crooked door and a window
• 50:23
  Speaker 1: crowded with clocks. A brass sign above it read, in
• 50:28
  Speaker 1: faded letters, Quillon and Sons, Clockmenders. It was a small
• 50:33
  Speaker 1: and rather tired-looking shop, with Stan thought. compared with the
• 50:38
  Speaker 1: cheerful bakery and the bright post office. The paint on
• 50:42
  Speaker 1: the door had faded from green to the color of
• 50:45
  Speaker 1: old moss, and the window glass had not been cleaned
• 50:48
  Speaker 1: in some time, so that the clocks behind it looked
• 50:52
  Speaker 1: a little misty, like faces seen through a dream. A
• 50:56
  Speaker 1: potted geranium on the step had long since given up
• 51:00
  Speaker 1: and gone brown. Yet the brass handle on the door
• 51:08
  Speaker 1: was polished smooth and bright, as if someone touched it
• 51:12
  Speaker 1: every single day, and in the corner of the window
• 51:16
  Speaker 1: there was a hand-lettered card, yellowed with age, that read,
• 51:21
  Speaker 1: Repairs Done With Care. Whiston stood and read it several
• 51:26
  Speaker 1: times over. He thought of the closed gray bud in
• 51:29
  Speaker 1: the corner of the garden and of Odile saying that
• 51:33
  Speaker 1: a person could be kind all day, and still go
• 51:36
  Speaker 1: to bed too sad to dream of it. He thought
• 51:39
  Speaker 1: that perhaps a shop could be the same way, kind
• 51:42
  Speaker 1: on the inside and tired on the outside, waiting for
• 51:46
  Speaker 1: someone to notice. Across the green, Tobias Reed was coiling
• 51:52
  Speaker 1: a rope by the pond, and he lifted his cap
• 51:55
  Speaker 1: to the boy in a slow and friendly way, which
• 51:58
  Speaker 1: made Whiston feel a good deal braver. He stood outside
• 52:03
  Speaker 1: for some time, Through the glass, he could see dozens
• 52:10
  Speaker 1: of clocks, tall ones and squat ones, round ones and
• 52:15
  Speaker 1: square ones, with painted faces and silver hands, all ticking
• 52:20
  Speaker 1: at once in a slow, wandering chorus, never quite in
• 52:24
  Speaker 1: time with one another. The sound reached him even through
• 52:28
  Speaker 1: the door. It was a little like rain on a roof,
• 52:31
  Speaker 1: or like a great many small hearts beating. Weaston took
• 52:36
  Speaker 1: a deep breath. The same slow breath Odiil had taught
• 52:40
  Speaker 1: him and pushed the door open. A little bell jingled overhead.
• 52:45
  Speaker 1: The shop was dim and cool and smelled of oil
• 52:48
  Speaker 1: and brass and old wood. Clocks hung from every wall,
• 52:53
  Speaker 1: stood on every shelf, crowded every corner. There were cuckoo
• 52:58
  Speaker 1: clocks and carriage clocks and one enormous grandfather clock with
• 53:03
  Speaker 1: a face like a gentle moon at the back Behind
• 53:06
  Speaker 1: a high wooden counter, a man sat bent over a workbench,
• 53:11
  Speaker 1: a magnifying glass screwed into one eye. He was very
• 53:19
  Speaker 1: thin and very old with a white mustache and spectacles
• 53:24
  Speaker 1: pushed up on his forehead, and his hands, when he
• 53:27
  Speaker 1: lifted them, were long and careful and quite steady. We
• 53:33
  Speaker 1: are closed, said Ambrose Clellan without looking up. His voice
• 53:38
  Speaker 1: was dry and gruff, like paper rustling, the sign says so.
• 53:43
  Speaker 1: Whiston glanced at the door, where the sign did indeed say,
• 53:48
  Speaker 1: closed hand crookedly by a bit of string. He took
• 53:51
  Speaker 1: a small step forward. I am sorry, he said in
• 53:56
  Speaker 1: his smallest voice. The sign did not seem to be working.
• 54:01
  Speaker 1: It is only... I have a watch that has stopped.
• 54:04
  Speaker 1: It was my grandfather's. I wondered if you might be
• 54:07
  Speaker 1: able to look at it. The clockmender said nothing. The
• 54:11
  Speaker 1: ticking of a hundred clocks filled the silence. Then, slowly,
• 54:16
  Speaker 1: he put down his tiny screwdriver and removed the glass
• 54:20
  Speaker 1: from his eye and turned. His face was gray and
• 54:28
  Speaker 1: lined and his eyes were pale and they had the
• 54:31
  Speaker 1: weary look of someone who has been awake in the
• 54:33
  Speaker 1: same room for a very long time. But as he
• 54:37
  Speaker 1: looked at the boy in the too large coat and
• 54:40
  Speaker 1: the borrowed boots, something in them shifted very slightly, like
• 54:45
  Speaker 1: a clock hand moving a single notch. Well, he said gruffly.
• 54:50
  Speaker 1: Bring it here, then. Whiston crossed the floor with the
• 54:54
  Speaker 1: handkerchief held out in both hands and set it on
• 54:58
  Speaker 1: the workbench. The old man unfolded the cloth and picked
• 55:02
  Speaker 1: up the watch between finger and thumb. He turned it
• 55:06
  Speaker 1: over and over again. He opened the back with a
• 55:09
  Speaker 1: tiny silver blade and peered inside. A pause. A small
• 55:15
  Speaker 1: sound of breath through the mustache. Hmm? Said Mr. Korn.
• 55:20
  Speaker 1: A fine movement. Very fine. Swiss, by the look of it.
• 55:25
  Speaker 1: Someone looked after this once. My grandfather, said Wistan. He
• 55:35
  Speaker 1: wound it every night. The clockmender did not reply, but
• 55:40
  Speaker 1: his hands moved more slowly, and there was something almost
• 55:44
  Speaker 1: tender in the way he laid the watch on a
• 55:46
  Speaker 1: velvet cloth. The mainspring has slipped. he said, after a time.
• 55:52
  Speaker 1: Not broken, only slipped. It can be mended. It will
• 55:56
  Speaker 1: take the better part of an afternoon. He looked up.
• 56:00
  Speaker 1: Do you have the time to wait? Whiston, who had
• 56:03
  Speaker 1: nothing to do at all, said that he did. So
• 56:07
  Speaker 1: he sat on a small three-legged stool beside the workbench,
• 56:11
  Speaker 1: and he watched. It was a thing he would remember
• 56:15
  Speaker 1: all his life. The old man worked in silence. his
• 56:19
  Speaker 1: long fingers drawing out tiny wheels and springs and laying
• 56:23
  Speaker 1: them in a neat row, like a line of small,
• 56:26
  Speaker 1: patient soldiers. The magnifying glass flashed. The oil dripped from
• 56:32
  Speaker 1: a needle, one bright drop at a time. The clocks
• 56:36
  Speaker 1: ticked and chimed and ticked, and the sunlight crept across
• 56:40
  Speaker 1: the floor in a long, warm square, and the whole
• 56:44
  Speaker 1: dim shop seemed to hold its breath. After a while,
• 56:52
  Speaker 1: the boy noticed a clock on the far wall that
• 56:54
  Speaker 1: was not ticking. It was a small one, tucked between
• 56:58
  Speaker 1: two larger ones, with a painted face and a tiny
• 57:02
  Speaker 1: brass moon on its pendulum, and its hand stood still
• 57:06
  Speaker 1: at a quarter past seven. A faded ribbon was tied
• 57:10
  Speaker 1: around its frame. He watched it for a long moment,
• 57:13
  Speaker 1: and the question rose in him gently. as a bubble
• 57:16
  Speaker 1: rises in a still pond, and before he could stop himself,
• 57:20
  Speaker 1: he asked it out loud, Why is that one not going?
• 57:40
  Speaker 1: The clockmender's hand stopped. Nothing else moved in the shop
• 57:45
  Speaker 1: except the other clocks, ticking on and on, keeping their
• 57:49
  Speaker 1: separate times. For a moment, Westan thought he had said
• 57:53
  Speaker 1: the wrong thing, and his stomach turned over, and he
• 57:57
  Speaker 1: was about to say sorry when the old man sighed.
• 58:01
  Speaker 1: It was a long, slow sigh, and it seemed to
• 58:05
  Speaker 1: carry with it a great many years. That, said Ambrose Cullen,
• 58:11
  Speaker 1: was my wife's clock. Her name was Marigold. She loved
• 58:16
  Speaker 1: it more than any other in the shop. He did
• 58:19
  Speaker 1: not look at the clock as he spoke. He kept
• 58:22
  Speaker 1: his eyes on the tiny gears in front of him.
• 58:26
  Speaker 1: She used to wind it every evening, just after supper,
• 58:30
  Speaker 1: at a quarter past seven. She said it was the
• 58:33
  Speaker 1: best time of day. The light came in through the window, golden,
• 58:39
  Speaker 1: and the whole shop smelled of toast and tea. She
• 58:42
  Speaker 1: would hum while she turned the key, a little tune
• 58:45
  Speaker 1: with no words. He stopped. It stopped when she did.
• 58:50
  Speaker 1: I could not bring myself to wind it again. It
• 58:58
  Speaker 1: seemed wrong, somehow, to start the time again without her.
• 59:02
  Speaker 1: Wisté sat very still, and his heart ached in a quiet,
• 59:07
  Speaker 1: kind way. He thought of the closed bud in the
• 59:10
  Speaker 1: far corner of the garden. He thought of Odile's voice saying,
• 59:15
  Speaker 1: a person can be kind all day and still go
• 59:18
  Speaker 1: to bed too sad to dream of it. He thought
• 59:22
  Speaker 1: of his own grandfather's watch, silent for three weeks, and
• 59:26
  Speaker 1: how he had carried it everywhere in the hope that
• 59:29
  Speaker 1: it might start. I think I understand, he said carefully.
• 59:34
  Speaker 1: It is not wrong. I think she would want it
• 59:37
  Speaker 1: to be going. She would like to hear it again.
• 59:41
  Speaker 1: The old man looked at him then, for the first
• 59:44
  Speaker 1: time fully, over the top of his spectacles. There was
• 59:48
  Speaker 1: a long silence. In the window, our Robin hopped onto
• 59:52
  Speaker 1: the sill and peered in at the clocks and hopped
• 59:56
  Speaker 1: away again. You are a very strange small boy, said Mr.
• 1:00:00
  Speaker 1: Quillon at last, but there was no sharpness in it.
• 1:00:04
  Speaker 1: His mustache twitched. He put down his tools and wiped
• 1:00:13
  Speaker 1: his hands carefully on a cloth. Then he stood, slowly,
• 1:00:17
  Speaker 1: with a small creak of his knees, and crossed the
• 1:00:21
  Speaker 1: shop to the little clock on the wall. He took
• 1:00:24
  Speaker 1: it down from its hook as one might lift a
• 1:00:27
  Speaker 1: sleeping bird from its nest. He carried it to the
• 1:00:30
  Speaker 1: counter and set it on the velvet cloth, and for
• 1:00:33
  Speaker 1: a long moment he only looked at it, his thin
• 1:00:36
  Speaker 1: hands resting on either side. Then he reached into a
• 1:00:40
  Speaker 1: drawer and drew out a small brass key, worn smooth,
• 1:00:45
  Speaker 1: with a tiny loop of faded ribbon. She tied that
• 1:00:49
  Speaker 1: on herself, he said, almost to himself, to find it
• 1:00:53
  Speaker 1: in the dark. He fitted it into the back of
• 1:00:56
  Speaker 1: the clock and, very gently, began to turn. The little
• 1:01:01
  Speaker 1: mechanism gave a soft click, and then a second, and
• 1:01:05
  Speaker 1: then a faint whirring, like the wings of a moth. Mr.
• 1:01:09
  Speaker 1: Quillen set the hands to the right time. He closed
• 1:01:13
  Speaker 1: the glass. He touched the pendulum with its small brass moon,
• 1:01:18
  Speaker 1: and it began to swing, tick, tick, tick. Time, need, delicate,
• 1:01:29
  Speaker 1: careful sound, as bright and clear as water falling on
• 1:01:34
  Speaker 1: a stone. Then, at the quarter hour from somewhere inside
• 1:01:38
  Speaker 1: the case, a thin silver chime rang out, three clear
• 1:01:43
  Speaker 1: notes like a lullaby, sweet and soft and a little crooked.
• 1:01:48
  Speaker 1: The clockmender stood with his hands pressed to his mouth.
• 1:01:52
  Speaker 1: His eyes shone. He did not say anything for a
• 1:01:56
  Speaker 1: long while, and Whiston, with great wisdom, said nothing either.
• 1:02:02
  Speaker 1: The sunlight slanted across the floor. The ticking of the
• 1:02:05
  Speaker 1: little clock joined with the ticking of all the others,
• 1:02:09
  Speaker 1: a fresh, new thread in the great slow tapestry of sound.
• 1:02:14
  Speaker 1: And after a moment, the whole shop seemed to settle,
• 1:02:18
  Speaker 1: as if it had been holding a breath for years
• 1:02:21
  Speaker 1: and had finally let it out. There Mr. Quollen whispered.
• 1:02:31
  Speaker 1: There you are, my dear. when he finally turned to
• 1:02:34
  Speaker 1: the workbench again. His hands were not quite steady and
• 1:02:38
  Speaker 1: his cheeks were wet, but he was smiling, a small, astonished,
• 1:02:44
  Speaker 1: crooked smile that looked as if it had been left
• 1:02:47
  Speaker 1: in a drawer for a very long time. He finished
• 1:02:50
  Speaker 1: mending the watch as the afternoon deepened and the boy
• 1:02:54
  Speaker 1: sat beside him the whole while, handing him tiny screws
• 1:02:58
  Speaker 1: and tweezers and listening to him talk. He talked about Marigold,
• 1:03:03
  Speaker 1: and about the shop, and about clocks, and the small
• 1:03:07
  Speaker 1: strange sounds that each one makes when it is happy.
• 1:03:11
  Speaker 1: By late afternoon, the watch was done. He wound it
• 1:03:15
  Speaker 1: with a few careful turns and held it to Weeston's ear.
• 1:03:20
  Speaker 1: It ticked, steady and bright, as though it had never stopped.
• 1:03:25
  Speaker 1: Your grandfather, said the clockmender, would be glad. He wrapped
• 1:03:30
  Speaker 1: it again in his handkerchief, but before he gave it back,
• 1:03:34
  Speaker 1: he took a very small brass spring from his bench
• 1:03:38
  Speaker 1: and tucked it in alongside. Fister, he said gruffly, in
• 1:03:46
  Speaker 1: case of emergencies, and you may come back tomorrow if
• 1:03:50
  Speaker 1: you like. There are a good many clocks that need
• 1:03:53
  Speaker 1: winding and an old man with slow hands. Wisten took
• 1:03:58
  Speaker 1: the watch. He thanked Mr. Quillon in a voice that wobbled,
• 1:04:02
  Speaker 1: and the clockmender nodded briskly and polished his spectacles with
• 1:04:06
  Speaker 1: great attention. At the door, the boy paused. Mr. Quillon,
• 1:04:11
  Speaker 1: he said, there is a garden at the end of
• 1:04:14
  Speaker 1: Lantern Lane. If you ever wanted a walk in the evening,
• 1:04:18
  Speaker 1: I am sure the gardener would like the company. The
• 1:04:22
  Speaker 1: old man said nothing, but his eyebrows went up and
• 1:04:26
  Speaker 1: something in his face softened and he gave a small,
• 1:04:30
  Speaker 1: slow nod like a flower leaning toward the light. Outside,
• 1:04:35
  Speaker 1: the afternoon had turned golden and drowsy. Long shadows stretched
• 1:04:41
  Speaker 1: across the green from the chestnut tree, and the slaloms
• 1:04:44
  Speaker 1: were swooping low over the pond, skimming for midges. We
• 1:04:53
  Speaker 1: Stan walked slowly, with the handkerchief held in both hands,
• 1:04:58
  Speaker 1: and every few steps he lifted it to his ear,
• 1:05:02
  Speaker 1: just to hear the watch ticking inside. Tick, tick, tick,
• 1:05:06
  Speaker 1: steady and bright like a tiny heart that had remembered
• 1:05:10
  Speaker 1: how to beat. He thought of his grandfather sitting by
• 1:05:14
  Speaker 1: the window of his old house, far away, winding the
• 1:05:18
  Speaker 1: watch each night before bed, and telling him that a
• 1:05:21
  Speaker 1: watch is only a promise to keep growing. He had
• 1:05:25
  Speaker 1: not understood that. When he was smaller, he thought he
• 1:05:28
  Speaker 1: understood it a little better now. Behind him, through the
• 1:05:32
  Speaker 1: dusty window of the shop, he could just make out
• 1:05:36
  Speaker 1: the shape of the old man, still standing at the
• 1:05:39
  Speaker 1: counter looking at the little clock with the brass moon.
• 1:05:43
  Speaker 1: The clock mender was not working. He was not mending anything.
• 1:05:52
  Speaker 1: He was simply listening, with his head tilted to one side,
• 1:05:57
  Speaker 1: the way Pennyroyal listened from the gatepost in the evening,
• 1:06:01
  Speaker 1: as if the sound were a voice he had been
• 1:06:03
  Speaker 1: waiting a very long time to hear again. On his
• 1:06:07
  Speaker 1: way home, Whiston passed the bakery, where Hester Plum was
• 1:06:11
  Speaker 1: setting loaves on a cooling rack. On an impulse, he
• 1:06:15
  Speaker 1: stopped and told her about the clockmender's little clock and
• 1:06:19
  Speaker 1: how it was ticking again. and how he thought Mr.
• 1:06:23
  Speaker 1: Quillon might enjoy something warm to eat. Hester did not
• 1:06:27
  Speaker 1: say a word. She wrapped a round loaf in a
• 1:06:30
  Speaker 1: clean cloth, tucked in a pat of butter, and pressed
• 1:06:34
  Speaker 1: it into his hands. Take it to him, she said,
• 1:06:38
  Speaker 1: her kind eyes bright. Tell him it is only a
• 1:06:42
  Speaker 1: bit of bread. Tell him it is from all of us.
• 1:07:02
  Speaker 1: The evening came down soft and blue over the village.
• 1:07:06
  Speaker 1: Lamps were lit in windows one by one, and the
• 1:07:10
  Speaker 1: smell of wood smoke drifted over the rooftops, and the
• 1:07:14
  Speaker 1: sheep on the hill settled into the grass with their
• 1:07:16
  Speaker 1: legs folded under them. At the end of Lantern Lane,
• 1:07:21
  Speaker 1: the milky lamp glowed at the gate. Odile Thistlewood stood
• 1:07:25
  Speaker 1: beside it with her water and can and her lantern,
• 1:07:28
  Speaker 1: and she took a deep slow breath of cool air,
• 1:07:32
  Speaker 1: and said as she did each night, Good evening, my dears.
• 1:07:37
  Speaker 1: Let us see who is dreaming. Whiston sat beside her
• 1:07:41
  Speaker 1: on the wall, with the green coat around his shoulders
• 1:07:45
  Speaker 1: and his borrowed boots dangling. His mother had come at
• 1:07:48
  Speaker 1: noon with her basket of bread and had hugged him
• 1:07:52
  Speaker 1: very hard and talked a long time with Odile over
• 1:07:56
  Speaker 1: tea and then, to his surprise, had agreed that he
• 1:07:59
  Speaker 1: might spend one more night in the garden since he
• 1:08:02
  Speaker 1: had asked so nicely. He had told Odile everything— the shop,
• 1:08:08
  Speaker 1: the clocks, the little ticking moon, the bread— She had
• 1:08:16
  Speaker 1: listened with her hands folded and her eyes half closed,
• 1:08:20
  Speaker 1: nodding slowly. Well done, she said when he had finished.
• 1:08:25
  Speaker 1: Very well done indeed. You did not try to fix him.
• 1:08:29
  Speaker 1: You only sat beside him, and that was the whole
• 1:08:33
  Speaker 1: of it. She patted his hand. Now we will see
• 1:08:37
  Speaker 1: what the night makes of it. They rose together, the
• 1:08:40
  Speaker 1: old gardener and the boy, and began the evening round. Sorrel,
• 1:08:46
  Speaker 1: who had been waiting patiently at the gate, closed one
• 1:08:49
  Speaker 1: eye and set off along the path behind them. Pennyroyal
• 1:08:53
  Speaker 1: drifted overhead, her wings silent as a thought. All through
• 1:08:58
  Speaker 1: the garden, the flowers... were beginning to wake. They opened
• 1:09:03
  Speaker 1: one by one, great pale blossoms glowing in the dusk,
• 1:09:08
  Speaker 1: and the light of them spread across the beds like
• 1:09:10
  Speaker 1: warm milk. The baker's flower opened round and golden, the
• 1:09:16
  Speaker 1: ferryman's opened slow and wide, like a boat sliding out
• 1:09:20
  Speaker 1: onto still water. The twins' double bloom opened pink as
• 1:09:29
  Speaker 1: a seashell, and the old widow's opened silver and calm,
• 1:09:34
  Speaker 1: and every one sent its soft thread of light drifting
• 1:09:37
  Speaker 1: up and over the wall toward the sleepers in the
• 1:09:40
  Speaker 1: village below. Whiston's own bud opened shortly afterwards, which surprised
• 1:09:46
  Speaker 1: him because he was not asleep. Odile only smiled. You
• 1:09:51
  Speaker 1: are very nearly asleep, she said, in the kindest way.
• 1:09:56
  Speaker 1: A person can be awake and have a kind dream
• 1:09:59
  Speaker 1: if their heart is quiet enough. He looked at his
• 1:10:03
  Speaker 1: small flower, round and pale and glowing, and he felt
• 1:10:08
  Speaker 1: something like a warm hand laid on his back. He
• 1:10:12
  Speaker 1: thought of his grandfather, winding the old watch every night.
• 1:10:17
  Speaker 1: He thought of his mother, tying her apron. He felt,
• 1:10:21
  Speaker 1: quite suddenly, that he belonged. They walked on to the
• 1:10:25
  Speaker 1: far corner. Hithophilile held up her lantern, and its pale
• 1:10:33
  Speaker 1: light fell across the leaves. Whiston crouched down and looked closely.
• 1:10:40
  Speaker 1: The bud looked just as it had the night before,
• 1:10:43
  Speaker 1: and yet there was something different about the air around it,
• 1:10:46
  Speaker 1: a kind of listening, as if the whole corner of
• 1:10:50
  Speaker 1: the garden were holding its breath. They waited. The night
• 1:10:54
  Speaker 1: grew deeper, and the stars came out in their thousands
• 1:10:58
  Speaker 1: bright and small and patient, and the pond far below
• 1:11:03
  Speaker 1: gave them back again. Somewhere in the village a church
• 1:11:06
  Speaker 1: clock struck the hour, and then, so faint that Weston
• 1:11:11
  Speaker 1: thought he had imagined it, there came another sound, from
• 1:11:15
  Speaker 1: a long way off, thin and silver and a little crooked,
• 1:11:20
  Speaker 1: three clear notes, like a lullaby. The little clock, with
• 1:11:25
  Speaker 1: the brass moon, chiming at a quarter past the hour,
• 1:11:29
  Speaker 1: in a quiet shop at the bottom of the green.
• 1:11:36
  Speaker 1: At that very moment, in a small room above the
• 1:11:39
  Speaker 1: clock shop, an old man was drifting off to sleep
• 1:11:43
  Speaker 1: in his armchair with a half-finished loaf of warm bread
• 1:11:46
  Speaker 1: on the table beside him and a cup of cooling
• 1:11:50
  Speaker 1: tea in his hand. He had not meant to doze.
• 1:11:53
  Speaker 1: He had meant only to rest his eyes. But the
• 1:11:57
  Speaker 1: chime of the little clock had filled the house like
• 1:12:00
  Speaker 1: a hand on his shoulder. and he let his head
• 1:12:02
  Speaker 1: fall back, and his breathing slowed, and he began to dream.
• 1:12:07
  Speaker 1: He dreamed that he was walking in a garden, and
• 1:12:11
  Speaker 1: it was spring. The air smelled of apple blossom and
• 1:12:15
  Speaker 1: fresh cut grass. A woman was walking beside him, small
• 1:12:20
  Speaker 1: and quick, with her hair tied up in a scarf,
• 1:12:24
  Speaker 1: and she was humming a tune with no words. She
• 1:12:27
  Speaker 1: turned and smiled at him and took his hand in hers,
• 1:12:32
  Speaker 1: and said there now, Ambrose, You wound it. I heard
• 1:12:37
  Speaker 1: it all the way from here. It sounded just right,
• 1:12:41
  Speaker 1: and he was not sad at all. He was only
• 1:12:44
  Speaker 1: glad and warm and very, very light. In the far
• 1:12:52
  Speaker 1: corner of the garden, the gray-green bud shivered. It was
• 1:12:56
  Speaker 1: the smallest of shivers. no more than a breath on
• 1:13:00
  Speaker 1: a window pane, and Whiston almost missed it. Then a
• 1:13:04
  Speaker 1: thread of silver crept along its seam. The tight petals loosened,
• 1:13:10
  Speaker 1: and one by one, slowly, with great care they began
• 1:13:14
  Speaker 1: to unfold. Odile pressed one hand to her heart. Whiston
• 1:13:19
  Speaker 1: held his breath. The bloom rose and widened, wider and wider,
• 1:13:25
  Speaker 1: until at last it stood open before them. as large
• 1:13:29
  Speaker 1: as a dinner plate and as pale as the first
• 1:13:33
  Speaker 1: light of morning. It was the loveliest flower in the garden.
• 1:13:38
  Speaker 1: Its petals were silver on the outside and soft gold within,
• 1:13:43
  Speaker 1: with a heart of warm, quiet light that seemed to
• 1:13:47
  Speaker 1: pulse very gently, like a heartbeat. It smelled of toast
• 1:13:52
  Speaker 1: and tea and apple blossom. A glow rose from it
• 1:14:00
  Speaker 1: like mist from a pond, drifted over the wall and
• 1:14:04
  Speaker 1: down the lane, and floated toward the village, toward a
• 1:14:08
  Speaker 1: small window about a clock shop, where it settled as
• 1:14:12
  Speaker 1: softly as a feather on the brow of a sleeping mane.
• 1:14:16
  Speaker 1: Odile wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
• 1:14:20
  Speaker 1: Forty years, she whispered, forty years, and now it has opened.
• 1:14:26
  Speaker 1: Wistan reached out and touched one petal, very lightly, with
• 1:14:31
  Speaker 1: the tip of his finger, and it was as warm
• 1:14:34
  Speaker 1: as bread. He felt tears in his own eyes, though
• 1:14:38
  Speaker 1: he was not sure why, because he had never felt
• 1:14:42
  Speaker 1: so happy. Sorrel at last arrived at the edge of
• 1:14:46
  Speaker 1: the bed and looked at the flower for a long
• 1:14:49
  Speaker 1: moment and closed one eye very, very slowly. It was
• 1:14:55
  Speaker 1: the most approving thing he had done in a century.
• 1:14:58
  Speaker 1: Then a strange and lovely thing happened. All across the garden,
• 1:15:04
  Speaker 1: the other moonflowers began to turn. Slowly, gently on their
• 1:15:13
  Speaker 1: long green stems, they leaned toward the far corner, toward
• 1:15:17
  Speaker 1: the newly opened gloom beside the wall. The way people
• 1:15:21
  Speaker 1: at a party turn toward the door when a dear
• 1:15:24
  Speaker 1: old friend walks in. The baker's flower turned. The ferryman's
• 1:15:29
  Speaker 1: flower turned. The twins' double balloon bobbed and nodded. Even
• 1:15:34
  Speaker 1: the tiny bead of light that belonged to the newest
• 1:15:37
  Speaker 1: baby seemed to tilt a little on its thread of
• 1:15:40
  Speaker 1: stem the whole garden glowed brighter, as if every flower
• 1:15:44
  Speaker 1: were saying welcome back. Penny Royal, who had been watching
• 1:15:49
  Speaker 1: quietly from the pear tree, came blighting down without a
• 1:15:53
  Speaker 1: sound and settled on the leaning marker. With one careful
• 1:15:56
  Speaker 1: claw she nudged it, and the little wooden stake, which
• 1:16:00
  Speaker 1: had leaned to one side for so many years, slid
• 1:16:04
  Speaker 1: upright into the soft earth and stood quite straight. Odile
• 1:16:09
  Speaker 1: laughed a small, astonished wet laugh. Well, she said, I
• 1:16:19
  Speaker 1: suppose I shall have to write a great deal in
• 1:16:22
  Speaker 1: my ledger tonight. Whiston leaned against her arm and watched
• 1:16:26
  Speaker 1: the flowers turning, and he thought he had never seen
• 1:16:30
  Speaker 1: anything so kind. They sat together by the wall for
• 1:16:34
  Speaker 1: a long time, the three of them and the owl,
• 1:16:38
  Speaker 1: in the light of the great bloom. The garden shone
• 1:16:41
  Speaker 1: all around them like a quiet sea, and the whole
• 1:16:44
  Speaker 1: village slept and and every sleeper dreamed kindly. After a time,
• 1:16:50
  Speaker 1: Whiston's head grew heavy on Odile's shoulder, and she lifted
• 1:16:54
  Speaker 1: him gently, as one lifts a sleeping bird, and carried
• 1:16:59
  Speaker 1: him back along the path to the cottage. She laid
• 1:17:02
  Speaker 1: him on the cot by the fire, tucked three blankets
• 1:17:05
  Speaker 1: around him, and put a small ticking watch beside his pillow.
• 1:17:10
  Speaker 1: He did not stir. He was smiling and Odile stood
• 1:17:14
  Speaker 1: a moment in the doorway, looking out at her garden.
• 1:17:18
  Speaker 1: The moon had risen over the hill, round and gold
• 1:17:22
  Speaker 1: and enormous, and every flower turned its face toward it.
• 1:17:31
  Speaker 1: The wind moved gently through the rows. Pennyroyal settled on
• 1:17:35
  Speaker 1: the doorpost, and Sorrel tucked himself into his usual corner
• 1:17:40
  Speaker 1: by the porch. Good night, my dears, she murmured. Sleep well.
• 1:17:45
  Speaker 1: Dream kindly. I will keep the lamp lit. And she
• 1:17:49
  Speaker 1: shut the cottage door, softly, so as not to wake
• 1:17:54
  Speaker 1: anyone and went to sit by the fire and listen
• 1:17:57
  Speaker 1: to the quiet. And that, my friend, is the story
• 1:18:01
  Speaker 1: of Odleil and the Moonflowers of Lanternmere. It is a
• 1:18:05
  Speaker 1: small tale and a gentle one, and I hope it
• 1:18:08
  Speaker 1: kept you company on your way towards Leet. If you
• 1:18:11
  Speaker 1: are still awake, let your body sink a little deeper
• 1:18:15
  Speaker 1: now into the bed. Feel the weight of the blanket,
• 1:18:19
  Speaker 1: the warmth of the pillow, the slow rise and fall
• 1:18:23
  Speaker 1: of your own breath. Somewhere above is waiting, and tonight
• 1:18:27
  Speaker 1: it may open for you. Whatever kindness you gave today,
• 1:18:31
  Speaker 1: however small, was a lamp. Let it light your dreams.
• 1:18:36
  Speaker 1: Let it keep you warm. I want to thank you
• 1:18:38
  Speaker 1: for spending this evening here with me. It was a
• 1:18:45
  Speaker 1: joy to have you. Muggle Snuggle is made slowly and
• 1:18:49
  Speaker 1: with love by Share the show with someone who needs
• 1:19:00
  Speaker 1: rest and leave a kind rating if you feel like it.
• 1:19:04
  Speaker 1: Keep this episode playing softly through the night if you
• 1:19:07
  Speaker 1: like it will not mind. Come back tomorrow when another
• 1:19:10
  Speaker 1: tale will be waiting for you by the fire. Good night,
• 1:19:13
  Speaker 1: dear friend. Sleep softly. The lamp is lit. The garden
• 1:19:18
  Speaker 1: is quiet and all is well.