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The Pudding Club Rescue · Muggle Snuggle: A Boring Harry Potter Podcast to make you Sleep

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: Welcome, dear friend, to this quiet hour of the evening
• 0:05
  Speaker 1: and welcome to the gentle shelter of our bedtime story.
• 0:10
  Speaker 1: Before we set out along the mossy footpaths of the
• 0:13
  Speaker 1: great woods, take a moment to settle yourself into your bed,
• 0:18
  Speaker 1: pulling your blankets up over your shoulders, smoothing the pillows
• 0:22
  Speaker 1: beneath your head, and letting your body feel completely supported, heavy,
• 0:28
  Speaker 1: and warm. Allow the small busyness of the daylight hours
• 0:32
  Speaker 1: to drift away, like fallen autumn leaves carried downstream upon
• 0:37
  Speaker 1: a slow and sleepy brook. Take a slow, deep, settling
• 0:43
  Speaker 1: breath in through your nose, feeling the cool, clean air
• 0:47
  Speaker 1: fill your chest. Hold that stillness for just a gentle heartbeat,
• 0:52
  Speaker 1: and then release it slowly through your mouth in a soft,
• 0:56
  Speaker 1: quiet sigh. Feel your shoulders drop. Feel the tiny muscles
• 1:01
  Speaker 1: around your eyes soften and take another gentle breath, in
• 1:06
  Speaker 1: and out, slow and easy. Tonight, our journey takes us
• 1:15
  Speaker 1: deep into the heart of Wumblewood, an ancient and kindly
• 1:20
  Speaker 1: forest where the trees are tall, the moss is soft
• 1:24
  Speaker 1: as velvet cushions, and the worries of the world never
• 1:27
  Speaker 1: find a way through the quiet canopy. It was the
• 1:31
  Speaker 1: golden turn of late autumn in Wumblewood, that tender season
• 1:35
  Speaker 1: when the days grow short and mellow, and the evenings arrive,
• 1:40
  Speaker 1: wrapped in scarves of pale violet mist. The summer heat
• 1:44
  Speaker 1: had long since folded its wings, leaving behind a crisp,
• 1:49
  Speaker 1: sweet fragrance of seasoned pine needles, fallen beech leaves, damp
• 1:55
  Speaker 1: earth and the rich, comforting scent of distant wood smoke
• 1:59
  Speaker 1: rising from subterranean burrows and hollow tree hearths. Throughout the woodland,
• 2:06
  Speaker 1: the wild creatures were beginning to feel the pleasant, drowsy
• 2:10
  Speaker 1: pull of the coming winter. The squirrels had already packed
• 2:18
  Speaker 1: their high hollows with shiny brown chestnuts, The field mice
• 2:23
  Speaker 1: had swept their seed chambers and tucked dry dandelion fluff
• 2:28
  Speaker 1: into their mattress slips, and the hedgehogs had gathered the thickest,
• 2:32
  Speaker 1: driest oak leaves to line their sleeping nests deep beneath
• 2:37
  Speaker 1: the roots of the wild hawthorns. Yet before the deep
• 2:41
  Speaker 1: winter quiet settled over the woodland, there was one cherished
• 2:46
  Speaker 1: tradition that every creature looked forward to with quiet delight.
• 2:51
  Speaker 1: It was the grand autumn feast of Wumblewood, held upon
• 2:55
  Speaker 1: the night when the full harvest moon rose round and
• 2:59
  Speaker 1: golden above the treetops, and at the very center of
• 3:03
  Speaker 1: that beloved celebration was the great autumn berry pudding, created
• 3:08
  Speaker 1: every year by the devoted members of the Wumblewood Pudding Club.
• 3:13
  Speaker 1: The Pudding Club had held its weekly meetings for more
• 3:17
  Speaker 1: seasons than even the oldest tortoise could remember. Its home
• 3:26
  Speaker 1: was the Great Hollow Oak, a magnificent and venerable tree
• 3:31
  Speaker 1: that stood upon a sunny knoll in the sheltered middle
• 3:34
  Speaker 1: of the forest. The trunk of the Great Oak was
• 3:37
  Speaker 1: so vast that four badgers' linking paws could scarcely reach
• 3:42
  Speaker 1: halfway around its furrowed bark. Long ago, the heartwood near
• 3:47
  Speaker 1: the base had gently hollowed itself out, creating a grand,
• 3:52
  Speaker 1: circular chamber with high-arched ceilings of living wood, completely dry,
• 3:58
  Speaker 1: completely draft-free, and warmed by a cheerful stone fireplace built
• 4:03
  Speaker 1: from smooth river pebbles set in yellow clay. Inside the
• 4:07
  Speaker 1: great oak, everything was designed for the utmost comfort and
• 4:12
  Speaker 1: peaceful fellowship. The floor was layered with braided rush mats
• 4:17
  Speaker 1: that smelled faintly of summer riverbanks. Suspended from the ceiling
• 4:22
  Speaker 1: boughs were little lanterns fashioned from dried acorn cups, fitted
• 4:28
  Speaker 1: with tiny wicks that burned clean, fragrant beeswax, casting a steady,
• 4:34
  Speaker 1: golden radiance that danced upon the polished timber walls. Around
• 4:43
  Speaker 1: the room stood small, deep armchairs stuffed with sweet clover
• 4:48
  Speaker 1: and carded sheep's wool, perfectly proportioned for woodland folk of
• 4:53
  Speaker 1: all sizes, from a tiny harvest mouse to a plump,
• 4:57
  Speaker 1: respectable hedgehog. In the middle of the chamber stood the
• 5:11
  Speaker 1: great council table, crafted from a single cross-section of a
• 5:15
  Speaker 1: fallen silver birch. The surface had been planed by carpenter
• 5:20
  Speaker 1: beetles and polished with walnut oil until it shone like
• 5:24
  Speaker 1: honey-colored glass. Upon this table rested the club's most treasured possessions,
• 5:31
  Speaker 1: three pewter measuring spoons, a miniature copper grater no larger
• 5:36
  Speaker 1: than a hazelnut shell, a collection of cream-colored earthenware mixing bowls,
• 5:42
  Speaker 1: and a large fat teapot patterned with green fern fronds
• 5:46
  Speaker 1: that sat quietly upon a low iron trivet near the hearth,
• 5:50
  Speaker 1: humming a sleepy tune as its steam drifted toward the chimney.
• 5:54
  Speaker 1: On this particular autumn twilight, the fire in the stone
• 5:59
  Speaker 1: hearth burned with a soft, crackling glow fed by dry
• 6:03
  Speaker 1: birch twigs and aromatic pinecones that perfumed the air with
• 6:07
  Speaker 1: sweet cedar and resin. Gathered around the birchwood table were
• 6:16
  Speaker 1: the steadfast members of the club, each wearing their official
• 6:20
  Speaker 1: club aprons and chatting together in gentle, hushed voices at
• 6:25
  Speaker 1: the head of the table sat Moss, a harvest mouse
• 6:28
  Speaker 1: of delicate frame and extraordinarily neat habits. Moss possessed a
• 6:34
  Speaker 1: coat of soft cinnamon-brown fur, white velvet paws, and bright,
• 6:39
  Speaker 1: dark eyes that twinkled behind a tiny pair of spectacles
• 6:42
  Speaker 1: fastened behind his ears with a woven strand of green
• 6:46
  Speaker 1: moss thread. Moss was the official recipe keeper of the
• 6:50
  Speaker 1: Pudding Club, a role he took with immense tenderness and care.
• 6:55
  Speaker 1: Tucked into the bib of his linen apron was a
• 6:58
  Speaker 1: small wooden pencil carved from a hawthorn twig and resting
• 7:02
  Speaker 1: before him was the club's treasured ledger, bound in pressed
• 7:06
  Speaker 1: birch bark and filled with handwritten notes on spices, curing times,
• 7:11
  Speaker 1: and steam crusts. Sitting beside Moss was his dearest friend,
• 7:16
  Speaker 1: Thistle the Hedgehog. Thistle was a creature of deliberate, unhurried ways,
• 7:26
  Speaker 1: who believed that nothing in life should ever be rushed.
• 7:30
  Speaker 1: least of all a cup of roasted root tea or
• 7:33
  Speaker 1: the stirring of a batter. Because the autumn evenings had
• 7:37
  Speaker 1: grown chilly, Thistle wore a thick hand-knitted saffron sweater that
• 7:42
  Speaker 1: had been lovingly crafted with little eyelet gaps between the
• 7:46
  Speaker 1: stitches so that his quills could rest comfortably without poking
• 7:50
  Speaker 1: through the yarn. Upon his paws were a pair of
• 7:53
  Speaker 1: soft woolen mittens with the fingertips cut away, allowing him
• 7:57
  Speaker 1: to hold his favorite wooden stirring spoon, carved fifty seasons
• 8:02
  Speaker 1: ago by his grandfather from the root of a wild
• 8:05
  Speaker 1: damson tree. Across from them sat Fern, a nimble red
• 8:10
  Speaker 1: squirrel with a magnificent, feathery tail that curled neatly over
• 8:15
  Speaker 1: her back like a russet parasol. Fern was the nut
• 8:23
  Speaker 1: and spice mistress of the club, famed across Womblewood for
• 8:27
  Speaker 1: her ability to grate nutmeg into clouds of fragrant dust
• 8:31
  Speaker 1: and crack cob nuts without bruising a single kernel. Beside
• 8:36
  Speaker 1: Fern reclined old Bramble the Badger, a venerable elder with
• 8:40
  Speaker 1: silver-frosted cheeks who wore a waistcoat of deep forest green velvet.
• 8:46
  Speaker 1: Bramble rarely spoke more than three words at a time,
• 8:50
  Speaker 1: But his slow, benevolent nods carried great wisdom, and his
• 8:55
  Speaker 1: broad paws were responsible for lifting the heaviest cast-iron steaming
• 9:00
  Speaker 1: pots onto the hearth hooks. And finally, resting upon a
• 9:05
  Speaker 1: soft cushion of dried lavender near the hearth, was little
• 9:09
  Speaker 1: Pippin the Dormouse. Pippin had arrived promptly for the meeting,
• 9:17
  Speaker 1: but the soothing warmth of the fire and the rhythmic
• 9:21
  Speaker 1: bubbling of the teapot had proven irresistible and he is
• 9:25
  Speaker 1: currently curled into a round, velvet ball. Fast asleep with
• 9:30
  Speaker 1: his tail wrapped securely over his whiskers, snoring with a
• 9:35
  Speaker 1: sound no louder than a dry leaf brushing against a stone,
• 9:50
  Speaker 1: Friends of the pudding club, Moss began, his voice soft,
• 9:55
  Speaker 1: clear and comforting as the murmur of a meadow brook.
• 9:59
  Speaker 1: He adjusted his little spectacles and smoothed down the edge
• 10:03
  Speaker 1: of his apron with both paws. We are gathered tonight
• 10:08
  Speaker 1: for our most sacred task of the season. Tomorrow evening,
• 10:12
  Speaker 1: when the harvest moon clears the high ridge, the creatures
• 10:17
  Speaker 1: of Wumblewood will gather upon the village green for the feast.
• 10:21
  Speaker 1: And by all rites and traditions, the centerpiece of that
• 10:26
  Speaker 1: feast must be our great autumn berry pudding. A quiet
• 10:30
  Speaker 1: murmur of pleased agreement rippled through the chamber. Thistle gave
• 10:34
  Speaker 1: a slow, contented nod, his wooden spoon tapping gently against
• 10:40
  Speaker 1: his palm, while Fern clasped her front paws together in delight.
• 10:45
  Speaker 1: Even old Bramble smiled beneath his silver whiskers, murmuring a low,
• 10:51
  Speaker 1: approving rumble from the depths of his armchair. For the
• 10:55
  Speaker 1: past three days, the club had labored with loving care
• 10:59
  Speaker 1: to create this year's masterpiece. It was not merely a pudding.
• 11:08
  Speaker 1: It was a tribute to the generosity of the forest.
• 11:12
  Speaker 1: Fern had spent two whole afternoons scouring the sunny banks
• 11:16
  Speaker 1: of the Whispering Stream to gather forty perfectly ripe, plump
• 11:20
  Speaker 1: wild blackberries, each one glistening like an ebony pearl. Moss
• 11:26
  Speaker 1: had contributed thirty dark purple damsons stewed in copper pans
• 11:30
  Speaker 1: with sweet clover nectar and a single drop of wild
• 11:34
  Speaker 1: apple cider until their skins had melted into a wretch,
• 11:39
  Speaker 1: fragrant jam. Thistle had gathered the finest sweet chestnuts, roasted
• 11:44
  Speaker 1: them over cherry wood coals, and crushed them into meal,
• 11:49
  Speaker 1: while Bramble had secured five jars of cold-pressed hazelnut oil
• 11:54
  Speaker 1: to enrich the crumb. The batter had been mixed according
• 11:57
  Speaker 1: to the ancient recipe. Twelve measures of toasted oat flour,
• 12:03
  Speaker 1: six spoonfuls of damson reduction, four measures of crushed berries,
• 12:08
  Speaker 1: a generous dusting of cinnamon bark, and a sprinkle of
• 12:12
  Speaker 1: wild ginger root dried in the sun. And, as tradition dictated,
• 12:22
  Speaker 1: every member of the club had taken the great damson
• 12:25
  Speaker 1: wood spoon and stirred the mixture thirty-three times in a
• 12:29
  Speaker 1: clockwise circle, whispering a quiet blessing for health, sweet dreams,
• 12:35
  Speaker 1: and peaceful slumbers for all who would share a slice.
• 12:39
  Speaker 1: It was our finest batter yet, Moss. Thistle rumbled softly,
• 12:43
  Speaker 1: his dark eyes shining with gentle pride. I believe the
• 12:48
  Speaker 1: touch of dried elderflower we folded in at the very
• 12:52
  Speaker 1: end will give the steam crust a perfume that will
• 12:55
  Speaker 1: make every badger and field volsci with contentment. Indeed thistle,
• 13:01
  Speaker 1: Moss replied with a warm smile, his whiskers twitching happily,
• 13:06
  Speaker 1: and the steaming went without the slightest flaw, five full
• 13:10
  Speaker 1: hours over steady alder coals. Neither too hot nor too cool,
• 13:15
  Speaker 1: until the pudding rose firm, plump, and fragrant inside its
• 13:20
  Speaker 1: cream-colored earthenware basin. The great autumnberry pudding had indeed finished
• 13:25
  Speaker 1: steaming earlier that very afternoon. It was a magnificent creation,
• 13:35
  Speaker 1: rounded and heavy, filling the earthenware basin to the brim.
• 13:40
  Speaker 1: In accordance with the club's time-honored customs, The basin had
• 13:44
  Speaker 1: been wrapped in a double layer of freshly washed, unbleached
• 13:49
  Speaker 1: linen calico, tucked neatly over the rim, and tied securely
• 13:54
  Speaker 1: around the collar with a braided cord of fragrant sweetgrass.
• 14:09
  Speaker 1: If before such a rich and complex pudding could be
• 14:13
  Speaker 1: sliced and shared, however, it required a quiet period of curing.
• 14:18
  Speaker 1: It needed a cool, steady atmosphere where the steam could settle,
• 14:23
  Speaker 1: where the tart juices of the dansons could soak deep
• 14:26
  Speaker 1: into the heart of the chestnut crumb, and where the
• 14:29
  Speaker 1: spices could marry into one seamless harmony of flavor. To
• 14:34
  Speaker 1: that end, the members had carried the wrapped basin down
• 14:38
  Speaker 1: into the lowest level of the great oak, where the
• 14:41
  Speaker 1: curing cellar lay tucked between the tree's deepest roots. There,
• 14:46
  Speaker 1: protected from heat, light, and drafts, the pudding had been
• 14:50
  Speaker 1: placed upon the wide, slotted pine shelf to rest until
• 14:54
  Speaker 1: the following evening. The curing cellar is in perfect condition,
• 14:59
  Speaker 1: Fern remarked, flicking her bushy tail with satisfaction. I checked
• 15:05
  Speaker 1: the little ventilation grate this morning. The air coming off
• 15:08
  Speaker 1: the moss bank is cool and sweet, exactly the temperature
• 15:13
  Speaker 1: of Sellerstone. Our pudding will be sitting there in the
• 15:20
  Speaker 1: dark right now, soaking in all that lovely spice syrup.
• 15:25
  Speaker 1: And the calico cloth was tied with four double knots.
• 15:29
  Speaker 1: Moss added, checking the notes in his birchbark ledger with
• 15:33
  Speaker 1: the tip of his pencil. Two knots by thistle and
• 15:37
  Speaker 1: two knots by myself, nothing could be more secure. It
• 15:42
  Speaker 1: will cure throughout the night, resting as peacefully as a
• 15:46
  Speaker 1: dormouse in winter, until we retrieve it tomorrow afternoon for
• 15:50
  Speaker 1: the final warming. Bramble the badger reached forward and lifted
• 15:55
  Speaker 1: the heavy iron teapot. pouring out five steaming mugs of
• 16:00
  Speaker 1: roasted dandelion chicory tea. The rich, earthy aroma drifted through
• 16:06
  Speaker 1: the room, blending with the fragrance of the hearth fire.
• 16:10
  Speaker 1: Moss set down his pencil and accepted a miniature pottery mug,
• 16:15
  Speaker 1: wrapping his paws around the warm clay and inhaling the
• 16:19
  Speaker 1: soothing steam. Thistle blew gently across the surface of his tea,
• 16:24
  Speaker 1: while Fern nibbled thoughtfully on a toasted pumpkin seed. To
• 16:33
  Speaker 1: the pudding club, Thistle said softly, raising his mug in
• 16:37
  Speaker 1: a slow, affectionate toast. And to the piece of Wumblewood.
• 16:43
  Speaker 1: May our pantries be full, our hearts be bright, and
• 16:47
  Speaker 1: our sleep be deep and untroubled. to the pudding club,
• 16:52
  Speaker 1: moss and fern echoed in quiet unison. Even little Pippin
• 16:58
  Speaker 1: let out a tiny, sleepy sigh in his basket, as
• 17:02
  Speaker 1: if joining in the toast from the depths of his dreams.
• 17:05
  Speaker 1: They sat together in comfortable, companionable silence, listening to the
• 17:11
  Speaker 1: crackle of the birch logs on the hearth and the
• 17:13
  Speaker 1: gentle sigh of the autumn wind through the high oak
• 17:16
  Speaker 1: branches outside. In Wumblewood, An evening spent with dear friends
• 17:22
  Speaker 1: over warm tea was the greatest treasure of all. The
• 17:26
  Speaker 1: shadows lengthened across the rush floor, the acorn cup lamps
• 17:30
  Speaker 1: flickered with a steady, trample glow, and the room grew
• 17:35
  Speaker 1: so wonderfully warm and peaceful that Moss found his eyelids
• 17:39
  Speaker 1: growing pleasantly heavy. Everything was in order. The feast was prepared,
• 17:50
  Speaker 1: the forest was quiet, and the great berry pudding was
• 17:54
  Speaker 1: resting safely in the dark cellar below. When their mugs
• 18:08
  Speaker 1: were empty, Moss carefully rinsed them in the small copper-washed
• 18:12
  Speaker 1: space beside the hearth and dried them with a clean
• 18:16
  Speaker 1: linen cloth. Thistle smoothed the embers of the fireplace with
• 18:20
  Speaker 1: a small iron shovel, leaving just enough warmth to keep
• 18:25
  Speaker 1: the room dry until morning. Fern fluffed the cushions of
• 18:29
  Speaker 1: the armchairs, while Bramble gently lifted Little Pippin, Basket, and
• 18:34
  Speaker 1: All to carry the sleeping Dormouse home to his snot-dorrow
• 18:38
  Speaker 1: beneath the alder trees. Sleep well, Moss, Thistle murmured as
• 18:43
  Speaker 1: they stepped onto the threshold of the great oak. Outside,
• 18:48
  Speaker 1: The autumn night was clear and cool, draped in a
• 18:51
  Speaker 1: velvet mantle of deep indigo. A million silver stars sparkled
• 18:57
  Speaker 1: through the gaps in the autumn leaves, and the crescent
• 19:00
  Speaker 1: moon hung like a silver hammock in the eastern sky.
• 19:04
  Speaker 1: Sleep well, Thistle, Moss replied, tighten the soft wool scarf
• 19:10
  Speaker 1: around his throat. We shall meet here tomorrow at mid-morning
• 19:18
  Speaker 1: to check on the pudding, prepare the serving platter, and
• 19:22
  Speaker 1: carry our masterpiece to the village green. With gentle waves
• 19:26
  Speaker 1: of their paws, the friends parted, following familiar mossy trails
• 19:32
  Speaker 1: that wound through the sleeping forest to their own warm burrows.
• 19:36
  Speaker 1: Moss walked with light, happy steps, his paws cushioned by
• 19:40
  Speaker 1: the soft carpet of fallen leaves. The woods around him
• 19:44
  Speaker 1: were completely at peace. A barn owl glided silently overhead
• 19:49
  Speaker 1: on wings of white down, on its way to hunt
• 19:53
  Speaker 1: for dried seeds in the meadow. A family of hedge
• 19:56
  Speaker 1: sparrows chirped sleepily from a sheltered hazel bush, tucking their
• 20:00
  Speaker 1: heads beneath their wings as the night breeze whispered through
• 20:04
  Speaker 1: the branches. When Moss reached his home beneath the roots
• 20:08
  Speaker 1: of a wild sweetbriar, he slipped off his little walking boots,
• 20:13
  Speaker 1: set his traveling jacket upon a posh wooden peg, and
• 20:17
  Speaker 1: climbed into his bed of thistledown and dried lavender. As
• 20:26
  Speaker 1: he pulled his patchwork quilt up to his chin, he
• 20:29
  Speaker 1: thought of the rich sweet berry pudding resting safely on
• 20:32
  Speaker 1: its slatted shelf in the great oak, and a smile
• 20:36
  Speaker 1: of utter contentment touched his whiskers. Outside, the night was vast, silent,
• 20:43
  Speaker 1: and kind. With a final slow breath, Moss closed his
• 20:48
  Speaker 1: eyes and drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber. The silence
• 20:53
  Speaker 1: that filled the little burrow was soft, deep and complete,
• 20:58
  Speaker 1: broken only by the faint, comforting whisper of the autumn
• 21:02
  Speaker 1: breeze through the dry hawthorn leaves far above the ceiling roots.
• 21:07
  Speaker 1: In his mind, Moss could picture the entire woodland resting
• 21:11
  Speaker 1: under the wide, starry sky. He could imagine the badgers
• 21:20
  Speaker 1: curled together in their deep sandy sets, their gray snouts
• 21:25
  Speaker 1: tucked into bundles of dry bracken. He could picture the
• 21:29
  Speaker 1: field mice nestled three by three in their grass-lined chambers
• 21:33
  Speaker 1: and the robins sleeping soundly upon their sheltered branches, with
• 21:38
  Speaker 1: their heads tucked securely beneath their wings. Every corner of
• 21:42
  Speaker 1: Wumblewood was safe, every pantry was stocked with dried berries
• 21:47
  Speaker 1: and nuts, and tomorrow would bring the warmest, happiest gathering
• 21:52
  Speaker 1: of the year. With a final, gentle sigh, Moss let
• 21:57
  Speaker 1: the last thoughts of the waking world drift away, sinking
• 22:02
  Speaker 1: into the soft, warm depths of his bed as sleep
• 22:05
  Speaker 1: folded around him like a velvet cloak. Dawn arrived over Wumblewood,
• 22:19
  Speaker 1: not with a sudden burst of brightness. but with a slow, tender,
• 22:24
  Speaker 1: unfurling of pearlescent light. A quiet autumn mist lay dripped
• 22:29
  Speaker 1: across the woodland floor like a blanket of clean, carded fleece,
• 22:34
  Speaker 1: softening the contours of every knoll, every mossy boulder, and
• 22:40
  Speaker 1: every curving tree root. High above in the canopy, The
• 22:44
  Speaker 1: leaves of the great oaks and bee trees were rimmed
• 22:48
  Speaker 1: with silver frost that slowly melted into sparkling droplets of
• 22:53
  Speaker 1: dew as the first pale amber rays of the morning
• 22:57
  Speaker 1: sun filtered through the boughs. The forest was hushed, waking
• 23:02
  Speaker 1: by gentle degrees. Somewhere in a hawthorn thicket, an early
• 23:07
  Speaker 1: robin cleared his throat with a series of sweet, tentative notes,
• 23:12
  Speaker 1: testing the morning air before launching into his cheerful autumn song.
• 23:22
  Speaker 1: From the high branches, the occasional drop of moisture fell
• 23:26
  Speaker 1: with a quiet, musical plink upon the broad surface of
• 23:30
  Speaker 1: a dock leaf, breaking the stillness with the peaceful rhythm
• 23:34
  Speaker 1: of woodland life. Deep beneath the sheltered roots of the wild,
• 23:39
  Speaker 1: sweet briar bush, Moss the Harvest Mouse began to stir
• 23:43
  Speaker 1: in his cozy nest for a long, luxurious while. He
• 23:48
  Speaker 1: did not open his eyes but simply lay listening to
• 23:51
  Speaker 1: the familiar, comforting sounds of the waking woods. His bed
• 23:56
  Speaker 1: of thistle down and dried lavender was wonderfully warm, holding
• 24:01
  Speaker 1: the heat of his small body against the crisp morning chill.
• 24:06
  Speaker 1: He wiggled his toes beneath his patchwork quilt, stretched his
• 24:10
  Speaker 1: front paws high above his head, and let out a tiny,
• 24:15
  Speaker 1: contented squeak that ruffled his whiskers. Today was the day
• 24:20
  Speaker 1: of the grand autumn feast. Today, the entire community of
• 24:29
  Speaker 1: Womblewood would gather together on the green to celebrate the
• 24:32
  Speaker 1: bounty of the harvest. share their winter stores, and taste
• 24:37
  Speaker 1: the crowning creation of the pudding club. Slipping quietly out
• 24:42
  Speaker 1: from beneath his blankets, Moss placed his velvet paws upon
• 24:46
  Speaker 1: the woven rush mat that covered his earthen floor. The
• 24:50
  Speaker 1: floor was cool but not cold, for the thick roots
• 24:54
  Speaker 1: of the sweetbriar protected his burrow from the autumn frosts.
• 24:58
  Speaker 1: He stepped over to his cedar washstand, where a fresh
• 25:02
  Speaker 1: dock leaf held three large crystal-clear droplets of morning dew
• 25:06
  Speaker 1: gathered from the clover patch the evening before. Dipping his
• 25:10
  Speaker 1: paws into the cool water, he washed his face, smoothed
• 25:14
  Speaker 1: his sleek cinnamon-colored fur, and brushed his whiskers with a
• 25:19
  Speaker 1: miniature comb carved from a polished hazelnut shell. He dressed
• 25:28
  Speaker 1: himself with customary care, putting on a clean shirt of
• 25:32
  Speaker 1: bleached linen, his sturdy traveling trousers of brown corduroy, and
• 25:36
  Speaker 1: a warm waistcoat knitted from soft undyed sheep's wool. Around
• 25:41
  Speaker 1: his neck he tied a handsome neckerchief of moss green wool,
• 25:45
  Speaker 1: and upon his nose he settled his little spectacles, looping
• 25:49
  Speaker 1: the clover thread securely behind his ears. Finally, he pulled
• 25:54
  Speaker 1: on his soft leather walking boots and greased with bistet
• 25:57
  Speaker 1: oil to keep out the dampness of the woodland trails,
• 26:01
  Speaker 1: and reached for his walking stick of polished blackthorn wood.
• 26:05
  Speaker 1: Before leaving his burrow, Moss enjoyed a small, unhurried breakfast.
• 26:11
  Speaker 1: He sat at his round walnut wood table and nibbled
• 26:14
  Speaker 1: on a roasted acorn kernel, two dried blueberries, and a
• 26:18
  Speaker 1: sip of warm clover tea heated over a tiny charcoal brazier.
• 26:24
  Speaker 1: Everything in his home was in its proper place, peaceful
• 26:28
  Speaker 1: and orderly. Feeling refreshed, warm, and filled with quiet anticipation,
• 26:39
  Speaker 1: Moss unlatched his round wooden door, stepped out into the
• 26:43
  Speaker 1: misty morning air, and began his journey toward the great
• 26:47
  Speaker 1: hollow oak to inspect the pudding. The woodland trail was
• 27:01
  Speaker 1: peaceful and empty at this early hour, carpeted in a thick,
• 27:06
  Speaker 1: rustling mantle of fallen leaves that had turned the rich
• 27:10
  Speaker 1: colors of copper, honey, and toasted chestnuts. As Moss walked
• 27:15
  Speaker 1: along the winding footpath, the mist began to lift, curling
• 27:20
  Speaker 1: upward in lazy tendrils toward the treetops and revealing the
• 27:24
  Speaker 1: magnificent autumn finery of Wumblewood. Shafts of pale golden sunlight
• 27:30
  Speaker 1: slanted between the massive trunks of the ancient trees, illuminating
• 27:35
  Speaker 1: drifting motes of pollen, and delicate spiderwebs strung between the
• 27:40
  Speaker 1: hazel twigs, each strand strung with tiny beads of morning
• 27:45
  Speaker 1: dew that sparkled like diamonds in the gentle light. Moss
• 27:49
  Speaker 1: walked with a steady, cheerful stride, tapping his black thorn
• 27:54
  Speaker 1: stick against the soft earth. The air was wonderfully sweet
• 28:02
  Speaker 1: and clean, filled with the rich earthy perfumes of autumn,
• 28:06
  Speaker 1: the scent of damp moss, drying fern bracken, wild mushrooms
• 28:11
  Speaker 1: growing in secret hollows, and the distant, pleasant tang of
• 28:16
  Speaker 1: birchwood smoke drifting from burrows where other woodland folk were
• 28:20
  Speaker 1: lighting their morning fires. As he rounded a gentle bend
• 28:23
  Speaker 1: where the path wound past the roots of a great
• 28:26
  Speaker 1: weeping birch, Moss heard the familiar, rhythmic sound of heavy,
• 28:32
  Speaker 1: deliberate footsteps approaching from the southern trail. A low, cheerful
• 28:38
  Speaker 1: humming accompanied the footsteps, sounding like a very small, very
• 28:43
  Speaker 1: contented bumblebee flying over a clover patch. A moment later,
• 28:48
  Speaker 1: the round and comforting figure of Thistle, the hedgehog, came
• 28:51
  Speaker 1: into view through the thinning mist. Good morning, Moss, Thistle
• 28:56
  Speaker 1: called out in his deep, rumbling voice. raising a woolen
• 29:00
  Speaker 1: mitten paw in warm greeting. His black button nose was
• 29:09
  Speaker 1: moist with the morning air, and his small dark eyes
• 29:12
  Speaker 1: twinkled with genuine happiness. Thistle was wrapped in his favorite
• 29:17
  Speaker 1: mustard yellow knit sweater, and around his neck was a
• 29:20
  Speaker 1: generous woolen scarf of forest green plaid that his aunt
• 29:24
  Speaker 1: had knitted for him three winters ago. In the crook
• 29:28
  Speaker 1: of his arm, Thistle carried a handsome earthenware crock, covered
• 29:33
  Speaker 1: with a square of clean linen tied with string. Good morning, Thistle,
• 29:39
  Speaker 1: Moss replied. warmly, stepping forward to meet his friend. You're
• 29:44
  Speaker 1: out early this morning and carrying a rather substantial burden,
• 29:49
  Speaker 1: if I am not mistaken. Thistle smiled, a slow, gentle
• 29:54
  Speaker 1: expression that crinkled the quills on his forehead. I could
• 29:58
  Speaker 1: not sleep past the first robin's call. My dear friend,
• 30:03
  Speaker 1: I rose at the break of dawn to churn the cream.
• 30:06
  Speaker 1: Four measures of sweet clover milk from the pasturage churned
• 30:11
  Speaker 1: slowly until it turned as thick and rich as clotted honey.
• 30:15
  Speaker 1: It will be the perfect accompaniment for our berry pudding tonight.
• 30:24
  Speaker 1: Have you been to the Great Oak yet to see
• 30:26
  Speaker 1: how our creation has rested through the night? I am
• 30:30
  Speaker 1: on my way there this very moment, Moss said, falling
• 30:34
  Speaker 1: into step beside his companion. I cannot wait to see it.
• 30:39
  Speaker 1: It had five full hours of gentle steaming yesterday and
• 30:43
  Speaker 1: twelve hours of curing in the root cellar. By now
• 30:47
  Speaker 1: the damson juices should have settled deep into the chestnut
• 30:51
  Speaker 1: crumb and the calico cloth should be cool to the touch.
• 30:56
  Speaker 1: The two friends strolled together along the winding path, sharing
• 31:00
  Speaker 1: the quiet joy of the morning. They spoke of simple,
• 31:05
  Speaker 1: peaceful things, the thickness of the acorn crop, the cozy
• 31:10
  Speaker 1: warmth of their beds, and the excitement that was steadily
• 31:13
  Speaker 1: building across Womblewood for the evening's feast. By the time
• 31:21
  Speaker 1: they climbed the gentle knoll in the center of the forest,
• 31:25
  Speaker 1: the sun had risen above the high ridges, bathing the
• 31:29
  Speaker 1: great hollow oak in a warm, welcoming flood of golden light.
• 31:44
  Speaker 1: The great tree stood majestic and serene. its sprawling boughs
• 31:49
  Speaker 1: arching overhead like the vaulted ceiling of a grand cathedral.
• 31:53
  Speaker 1: Moss and thistle stepped through the broad, arched entryway carved
• 31:58
  Speaker 1: into the ancient trunk, wiping their boots carefully on the
• 32:02
  Speaker 1: woven rash mat just inside the threshold. Inside the main
• 32:06
  Speaker 1: hall of the Great Oak, everything was quiet and still.
• 32:11
  Speaker 1: The embers in the stone fireplace were sleeping beneath a
• 32:14
  Speaker 1: soft blanket of gray ash, radiating just enough gentle warmth
• 32:19
  Speaker 1: to take the chill off the morning air. The polished
• 32:23
  Speaker 1: birchwood table stood clean and shining, and the copper kettle
• 32:27
  Speaker 1: sat upon its trivet, ready to be filled with fresh
• 32:31
  Speaker 1: water from the spearing. Shall we put the kettle on
• 32:34
  Speaker 1: before we go down, or after? Thistle asked, setting his
• 32:39
  Speaker 1: crock of clotted cream safely upon the table. Let us
• 32:43
  Speaker 1: light the lantern and check on the pudding first, Ma suggested,
• 32:47
  Speaker 1: his whiskers twitching with eager curiosity. Then we can sit
• 32:55
  Speaker 1: by the hearth with a warm mug of roasted chicory
• 32:59
  Speaker 1: tea and admire our work. Moss walked over to the
• 33:02
  Speaker 1: small wooden cupboard beside the hearth and retrieved the club's
• 33:06
  Speaker 1: tin lantern. It was a charming little lantern, pierced with
• 33:11
  Speaker 1: dozens of tiny star-shaped holes that cast a constellation of
• 33:15
  Speaker 1: soft light in all directions. Thistle struck a small wooden
• 33:20
  Speaker 1: match against a rough river stone, touched the flame to
• 33:24
  Speaker 1: the beeswax candle inside the lantern, and closed the little
• 33:29
  Speaker 1: glass door. The warm honey-scented flame flared to life, illuminating
• 33:34
  Speaker 1: the cozy nooks of the chamber with a reassuring amber glow.
• 33:39
  Speaker 1: With Moss holding the lantern high and Thistle carrying the
• 33:43
  Speaker 1: key on a braided hemp cord, the two friends approached
• 33:47
  Speaker 1: the small rounded door set into the back wall of
• 33:50
  Speaker 1: the hall. This door opened onto the winding staircase that
• 33:54
  Speaker 1: led down into the deepest, coolest roots of the oak,
• 33:58
  Speaker 1: the curing cellar of the pudding club. Thistle slipped the
• 34:06
  Speaker 1: smooth wooden key into the lock, turned it with a
• 34:09
  Speaker 1: soft click, and pulled the door open on its well-greased
• 34:14
  Speaker 1: leather hinges. A wave of cool, fragrant air greeted them
• 34:19
  Speaker 1: from below, carrying the refreshing scent of damp cellar stone,
• 34:23
  Speaker 1: dried sweet grass, hanging bundles of sage, and the sweet,
• 34:28
  Speaker 1: fruity aroma of preserved jams. Holding the lantern steadily— Moss
• 34:34
  Speaker 1: led the way down the curving staircase. The steps were
• 34:38
  Speaker 1: not made of stone or hewn planks but had been
• 34:41
  Speaker 1: shaped from the living roots of the great oak itself,
• 34:44
  Speaker 1: worn smooth by decades of soft paws traveling up and down.
• 34:49
  Speaker 1: There were eighteen steps in all, each one curving gently
• 34:54
  Speaker 1: around the central taproot. Moss and Thistle counted them softly
• 34:59
  Speaker 1: as they descended. their footfalls making scarcely a sound in
• 35:03
  Speaker 1: the quiet subterranean passageway. To the bottom of the stairs
• 35:12
  Speaker 1: lay the curing cellar, a spacious, vaulted room carved into
• 35:17
  Speaker 1: the firm, dry earth between four massive root pillars. The
• 35:22
  Speaker 1: walls had been whitewashed with lime and crushed chalk. To
• 35:26
  Speaker 1: keep the chamber bright and fresh, and long wooden shelves
• 35:30
  Speaker 1: made of seasoned pine lined the walls, each one held
• 35:34
  Speaker 1: up by stout oak pegs. This was the sanctuary where
• 35:38
  Speaker 1: the Pudding Club kept its greatest treasures. On the upper
• 35:42
  Speaker 1: shelves rested dozens of glass jars filled with wild raspberry preserves,
• 35:48
  Speaker 1: spiced crabapple jelly, and honeyed rowanberries, their contents glowing like
• 35:54
  Speaker 1: stained glass in the lantern light. On the lower shelves
• 35:58
  Speaker 1: were earthenware pots of pickled beech mast, sacks of dried
• 36:02
  Speaker 1: sunflower seeds, and stone crocks of hazelnut butter. And in
• 36:12
  Speaker 1: the center of the room, positioned beneath the small, slate-covered
• 36:17
  Speaker 1: ventilation flue that drew in the cool air from the
• 36:20
  Speaker 1: northern moss bank, stood the wide, slotted pine cooling table
• 36:25
  Speaker 1: where the great autumn berry pudding had been placed to cure.
• 36:39
  Speaker 1: Moss walked briskly across the smooth stone flax stones, raising
• 36:44
  Speaker 1: the tin lantern so that its warm light washed over
• 36:48
  Speaker 1: the cooling table. Let us see how our masterpiece has rested.
• 36:52
  Speaker 1: Moss said cheerfully, his voice echoing softly against the whitewashed walls.
• 36:58
  Speaker 1: He stepped up to the table, smiled, and then suddenly
• 37:02
  Speaker 1: stopped in his tracks. His whiskers went stiff, his little
• 37:07
  Speaker 1: paws froze in midair, his spectacles slipped down to the
• 37:11
  Speaker 1: very tip of his nose, and his Brent hazel eyes
• 37:15
  Speaker 1: opened wider and wider in utter astonishment. Beside him, Thistle paused,
• 37:21
  Speaker 1: blinking slowly as he looked at the table. He took
• 37:25
  Speaker 1: off his woolen mittens, rubbed his eyes with the back
• 37:28
  Speaker 1: of his paw, and looked again. The slotted pine cooling
• 37:32
  Speaker 1: table was completely, utterly bare. There was no large, cream-colored
• 37:37
  Speaker 1: earthenware basin sitting upon the wood. There was no double
• 37:41
  Speaker 1: layer of bleached calico cloth neatly folded over the rim
• 37:45
  Speaker 1: and There was no braided sweetgrass ribbon tied in four
• 37:54
  Speaker 1: careful double knots. There was no great autumn berry putting
• 37:58
  Speaker 1: anywhere to be seen. For several long moments, the only
• 38:03
  Speaker 1: sound in the cool cellar was the rhythmic, soft ticking
• 38:07
  Speaker 1: of the water clock in the corner and the quiet,
• 38:11
  Speaker 1: steady breathing of the two friends. In Wumblewood, emergencies and
• 38:16
  Speaker 1: panics were practically unknown, and neither Moss nor Thistle had
• 38:21
  Speaker 1: ever experienced a moment quite like this. Thistle, Moss whispered,
• 38:27
  Speaker 1: his voice trembling ever so slightly with disbelief. Do you,
• 38:33
  Speaker 1: do you see what I do not see? Thistle stepped forward,
• 38:37
  Speaker 1: his heavy boots clicking gently against the flagstones. He reached
• 38:42
  Speaker 1: out a hesitant paw and touched the bare, smooth wood
• 38:46
  Speaker 1: of the table. The pudding. Thistle rumbles softly, his brow
• 38:52
  Speaker 1: furrowing beneath his quills. It is not here, Moss. It
• 38:57
  Speaker 1: is simply not here. Moss scurried around the table, holding
• 39:02
  Speaker 1: the lantern into every shadow. Perhaps someone moved it to
• 39:10
  Speaker 1: keep it safe from drafts? Perhaps Bramble came down early
• 39:14
  Speaker 1: this morning to check the ventilation? Or perhaps Fern wanted
• 39:19
  Speaker 1: to weigh it on the lodge-boss scales in the larder?
• 39:22
  Speaker 1: Thistle shook his head slowly. Bramble does not wake until
• 39:27
  Speaker 1: the sun has cleared the treetops and Fern would never
• 39:30
  Speaker 1: move the pudding without your presence, Moss. You are the
• 39:34
  Speaker 1: recipe keeper. No pudding moves without your signature in the ledger.
• 39:39
  Speaker 1: Moss sat down upon a nearby wooden stool, his small
• 39:43
  Speaker 1: shoulders sagging slightly beneath his wool waistcoat. The grand autumn
• 39:48
  Speaker 1: feast begins at twilight, thistle. The entire woodland is counting
• 39:53
  Speaker 1: on our berry pudding. The field voles have prepared their
• 39:57
  Speaker 1: sweetest songs, the hedge sparrows have woven decorative garlands of
• 40:02
  Speaker 1: autumn leaves, and the wood mice have polished 300 wooden spoons.
• 40:12
  Speaker 1: How can we have a feast without the pudding? Thistle
• 40:15
  Speaker 1: placed a comforting, heavy paw upon the mouse's shoulder. His
• 40:20
  Speaker 1: touch was warm and steady. Do not despair, little moss.
• 40:25
  Speaker 1: Puddings do not grow wings and fly away into the clouds,
• 40:30
  Speaker 1: nor do they melt into thin air like morning mist.
• 40:35
  Speaker 1: A five-pound berry pudding in a heavy earthenware basin does
• 40:39
  Speaker 1: not vanish on its own. Someone has taken it and,
• 40:42
  Speaker 1: in Wumblewood, Whoever took it surely had a kind and
• 40:46
  Speaker 1: peaceful reason. Let us look with care and see what
• 40:51
  Speaker 1: the cellar can tell us. Moss took a deep, steadying breath.
• 40:56
  Speaker 1: Thistle was right. In Wumblewood there were no villains, no thieves,
• 41:01
  Speaker 1: and no perils. There was always a simple, gentle explanation
• 41:06
  Speaker 1: for everything that happened if only one looked with patience
• 41:11
  Speaker 1: and an open heart. Moss pushed his spectacles back up
• 41:15
  Speaker 1: the bridge of his nose, stood up from the stool,
• 41:19
  Speaker 1: and raised the lantern once more. You are right, Thistle,
• 41:33
  Speaker 1: Moss said, his voice regaining its calm, steady cadence. Let
• 41:39
  Speaker 1: us look for signs. A pudding of that size cannot
• 41:43
  Speaker 1: be moved without leaving some trace behind. Together the mouse
• 41:48
  Speaker 1: and the hedgehog leaned over the slatted pine cooling table
• 41:52
  Speaker 1: now that they were looking with deliberate care. The details
• 41:56
  Speaker 1: began to reveal themselves in the soft light of the
• 41:59
  Speaker 1: beeswax candle. Upon the surface of the pine planks there
• 42:04
  Speaker 1: was a light, powdery dusting of stone-ground oat flour that
• 42:08
  Speaker 1: had fallen from the calico cloth when the basin was
• 42:11
  Speaker 1: set down yesterday afternoon. Right in the middle of that
• 42:15
  Speaker 1: flyer was a perfect, clean circular ring, showing exactly where
• 42:20
  Speaker 1: the round base of the cream earthenware basin had rested
• 42:24
  Speaker 1: during the night. Look here, Moss whispered, pointing with the
• 42:29
  Speaker 1: tip of his blackthorn stick. At the right-hand edge of
• 42:33
  Speaker 1: the table, Just beside the circular ring was a tiny,
• 42:38
  Speaker 1: glistening droplet of dark purple syrup. It had fallen from
• 42:46
  Speaker 1: the lip of the basin when the pudding had been lifted.
• 42:50
  Speaker 1: Moss leaned down and sniffed it gently. It carried the unmistakable,
• 42:56
  Speaker 1: heavenly aroma of stewed damsons, wild blackberries, and clover honey.
• 43:01
  Speaker 1: with just a hint of cinnamon and crushed nutmeg. It
• 43:05
  Speaker 1: was lifted recently, Moss observed, tapping his spectacles. The berry
• 43:11
  Speaker 1: syrup is still sticky. It has not dried into a
• 43:15
  Speaker 1: hard sugar crust. Whoever moved our pudding did so only
• 43:19
  Speaker 1: a short time ago, perhaps while the morning mist was
• 43:23
  Speaker 1: still thick in the hollows. And look down here upon
• 43:26
  Speaker 1: the flagstones, Moss. Thistle rumbled. pointing his claw toward the
• 43:31
  Speaker 1: floor near the front of the table. Moss lowered the
• 43:35
  Speaker 1: tin lantern, bringing the beam of light close to the
• 43:38
  Speaker 1: cool gray stones. There, clearly stand upon the floor in
• 43:43
  Speaker 1: a faint dusting of white flour and sticky purple damson juice,
• 43:48
  Speaker 1: was a footprint. It was a very small, very delicate
• 43:53
  Speaker 1: footprint that Posse, Micus, Brode, It was not the wide,
• 44:02
  Speaker 1: soft pawprint of a badger, nor was it the padded
• 44:06
  Speaker 1: print of a mouse, nor the broad, clawed step of
• 44:11
  Speaker 1: a hedgehog. It consisted of three slender toes pointing forward
• 44:16
  Speaker 1: and one slender toe pointing behind, and right beside it
• 44:21
  Speaker 1: was another print and then another, leading away from the
• 44:25
  Speaker 1: table and across the flagstones and straight toward the open
• 44:29
  Speaker 1: doorway of the curing cellar. Bird tracks. Moss gasped softly,
• 44:35
  Speaker 1: his whiskers trembling with excitement. Delicate three-toed tracks, tipped with
• 44:41
  Speaker 1: blackberry syrup and powdered with flour. Indeed, Fissle murmured, leaning
• 44:48
  Speaker 1: down on his knees to inspect the marks with his
• 44:51
  Speaker 1: black button nose. A feathered neighbor has been in our cellar.
• 44:56
  Speaker 1: Look how the tracks hop every two paces, and how
• 45:00
  Speaker 1: light the pressure is on the stones. And yet, to
• 45:07
  Speaker 1: carry a heavy earthenware basin, our friend must have used
• 45:11
  Speaker 1: both feet firmly to balance the weight. The jammy footprints
• 45:16
  Speaker 1: formed a clear, unmistakable trail. They led from the cooling table,
• 45:21
  Speaker 1: across the cellar floor, and up the curving root stairs,
• 45:25
  Speaker 1: disappearing around the bend toward the upper hall of the
• 45:29
  Speaker 1: great oak. Moss looked up at Thistle, a bright, hopeful
• 45:34
  Speaker 1: spark returning to his dark eyes. The trail is fresh, Thistle.
• 45:39
  Speaker 1: The syrup is still moist upon the stone. If we
• 45:43
  Speaker 1: follow these footprints, they will lead us directly to our pudding.
• 45:48
  Speaker 1: Then let us not delay, my friend, Thistle said with
• 45:52
  Speaker 1: a broad, encouraging smile, pulling his woolen mittens back over
• 45:57
  Speaker 1: his paws. We have our mystery, we have our clues,
• 46:02
  Speaker 1: and we have the whole morning ahead of us. Let
• 46:09
  Speaker 1: us gather our coats, fetch our walking sticks, and see
• 46:13
  Speaker 1: where these jammy steps will lead us through Wumblewood. With
• 46:17
  Speaker 1: renewed hope and cheerful hearts, Moss and Thistle turned toward
• 46:22
  Speaker 1: the root stairs, ready to begin their gentle pursuit. Climbing
• 46:35
  Speaker 1: back up the curving root stairs from the curing cellar,
• 46:39
  Speaker 1: Moss and Thistle emerged into the sunlit main hall of
• 46:43
  Speaker 1: the Great Hollow Oak. The morning had grown brighter, and
• 46:47
  Speaker 1: long shafts of amber sunlight slanted through the knot-hole windows,
• 46:52
  Speaker 1: warming the braided rush mats and illuminating the drifting motes
• 46:55
  Speaker 1: of pollen that floated peacefully in the still air. Before
• 47:00
  Speaker 1: rushing out into the woods, the two friends paused beside
• 47:03
  Speaker 1: the great birchwood table. In Wumblewood, haste was considered not
• 47:09
  Speaker 1: only unnecessary, but entirely counter to good sense. There was
• 47:13
  Speaker 1: plenty of time before the evening feast, The autumn day
• 47:17
  Speaker 1: had only just begun, and the woodland was a safe
• 47:21
  Speaker 1: and friendly home where nothing of value was ever truly lost.
• 47:26
  Speaker 1: Moss pulled out his wooden chair, sat down, and took
• 47:30
  Speaker 1: a slow, calming breath, letting his small paws rest upon
• 47:35
  Speaker 1: the smooth wood. Thistle did the same, smoothing his mustard
• 47:39
  Speaker 1: yellow sweater and loosening his woolen scarf. Let us prepare
• 47:48
  Speaker 1: ourselves properly, my friend, Moss said, his voice quiet, steady,
• 47:54
  Speaker 1: and clear. If we're to follow these tracks across the forest,
• 47:59
  Speaker 1: we must be well-equipped and comfortable. An unhurried journey is
• 48:04
  Speaker 1: always the most successful one. Moss went to the walnutwood
• 48:08
  Speaker 1: cupboard near the hearth and retrieved a small traveling satchel
• 48:12
  Speaker 1: woven from sturdy willow wisp. Inside it, he placed several
• 48:17
  Speaker 1: useful items. A small magnifying lens fashioned from a droplet
• 48:22
  Speaker 1: of polished mountain crystal, a soft square of flannel cloth
• 48:26
  Speaker 1: for lifting any delicate clues, a small tin containing four
• 48:31
  Speaker 1: round butter biscuits baked with ground clover flour, and his
• 48:35
  Speaker 1: notebook bound in birch bark with his hawthorn twig pencil. Thistle, meanwhile,
• 48:42
  Speaker 1: checked the cork stopper of his small copper traveling flask,
• 48:46
  Speaker 1: ensuring that it was filled to the brim with warm
• 48:48
  Speaker 1: mint and nettle tea. Thanks as Moss was fasting the
• 48:56
  Speaker 1: brass buckle of his willow satchel, the arched outer door
• 49:00
  Speaker 1: of the great oak swung open with a soft, welcoming click.
• 49:05
  Speaker 1: Stepping through the doorway was Fern the Red Squirrel, her
• 49:09
  Speaker 1: magnificent russet tail arching over her back like a plume
• 49:13
  Speaker 1: of autumn smoke. She wore a tailored little apron of
• 49:17
  Speaker 1: forest green linen and tucked behind her ear was a
• 49:20
  Speaker 1: smooth cedar measuring stick that she used for surveying the
• 49:24
  Speaker 1: height of hazel bushes.' Good morning, Moss.'' Good morning, Thistle,'
• 49:29
  Speaker 1: Fern chirped cheerfully, her bright dark eyes dancing with high spirits.'
• 49:34
  Speaker 1: The morning air is crisp as a fresh apple,' I
• 49:39
  Speaker 1: came to see if you needed any extra hands to
• 49:42
  Speaker 1: polish the ceremonial serving platter for tonight's feast. Moss and
• 49:46
  Speaker 1: Thistle looked at their friend, and in gentle, measured words,
• 49:51
  Speaker 1: they explained the quiet mystery of the empty cooling shelf
• 49:55
  Speaker 1: and the discovery of the jammy footprints on the cellar flagstones.
• 50:04
  Speaker 1: Firm listened with her paws clasped against her chest. her
• 50:08
  Speaker 1: whiskers twitching with profound interest and gentle curiosity. Our berry
• 50:13
  Speaker 1: pudding has gone on a morning walk, Fern exclaimed softly,
• 50:18
  Speaker 1: her tail flicking in delight. And bird tracks on the stone,
• 50:22
  Speaker 1: you say? With three slender toes in front and one behind, why,
• 50:27
  Speaker 1: that is the most fascinating thing to happen in Wumblewood
• 50:31
  Speaker 1: since the great acorn roll of three autumns ago. You
• 50:35
  Speaker 1: must let me come with you. My eyes are sharp
• 50:38
  Speaker 1: and I can leap up onto the lower branches to
• 50:41
  Speaker 1: see where the trail leads through the ferns. We would
• 50:44
  Speaker 1: be honored by your company, fern. Thistle replied with a warm,
• 50:49
  Speaker 1: rumbling chuckle. Three pairs of eyes are always better than two,
• 50:54
  Speaker 1: especially when one pair belongs to a nimble squirrel. Together,
• 51:00
  Speaker 1: the three companions returned to the threshold of the root cellar,
• 51:04
  Speaker 1: ready to begin their gentle pursuit from the very first mark.
• 51:19
  Speaker 1: Leaning close to the flagstones with his crystal magnifying lens,
• 51:23
  Speaker 1: Moss examined the faint purple prints at the foot of
• 51:27
  Speaker 1: the root stairs. Under the magnifying glass, the delicate texture
• 51:31
  Speaker 1: of the footprints became wonderfully clear. They were light and bouncy,
• 51:37
  Speaker 1: the kind of steps made by a creature who moved
• 51:40
  Speaker 1: with quick, cheerful hops rather than heavy, trudging strides. Each
• 51:45
  Speaker 1: print was edged with a tiny dusting of white oat flour.
• 51:49
  Speaker 1: and the front toes were faintly stained with dark purple
• 51:53
  Speaker 1: syrup that smelled delightfully of stewed damsons and wild blackberries.
• 51:59
  Speaker 1: See here, Moss whispered, pointing with the tip of his pencil.
• 52:04
  Speaker 1: Our feathered friend hopped up the root stairs two steps
• 52:08
  Speaker 1: at a time, balancing the heavy basin with great care.
• 52:16
  Speaker 1: There is not a single spill on the steps. only
• 52:19
  Speaker 1: the light marks of two nimble feet. They followed the
• 52:23
  Speaker 1: tracks up the eighteen curving root steps, across the rush
• 52:28
  Speaker 1: mats of the main hall, and directly past the stone fireplace.
• 52:33
  Speaker 1: The footprints did not lead toward the grand front entrance
• 52:37
  Speaker 1: where visitors usually arrived. Instead, they turned sharply to the left,
• 52:43
  Speaker 1: heading toward the small rounded side door that opened onto
• 52:47
  Speaker 1: the eastern slope of the oak knoll. Moss stepped to
• 52:51
  Speaker 1: the door and lifted the brass latch. The door swung
• 52:55
  Speaker 1: outward into the cool, sparkling morning air. Just outside the
• 53:00
  Speaker 1: threshold lay a broad, sloping bank cushioned in deep, emerald
• 53:05
  Speaker 1: velvet moss. The moss was soft, damp with morning dew,
• 53:11
  Speaker 1: and so thick that it recorded every passing touch like
• 53:15
  Speaker 1: a bed of green down. And there, pressed into the
• 53:18
  Speaker 1: plush surface of the moss, was the continuation of the
• 53:23
  Speaker 1: jammy trail Two rows of neat, three-toed impressions stretched across
• 53:32
  Speaker 1: the green carpet heading eastward into the quiet heart of
• 53:37
  Speaker 1: the woodland. Look how clearly they show upon the velvet moss,
• 53:41
  Speaker 1: Fern whispered, dropping onto all fours to sniff the green fronds.
• 53:47
  Speaker 1: And look at the tiny purple specks on the tips
• 53:49
  Speaker 1: of the moss cups. The syrup is still glistening in
• 53:52
  Speaker 1: the morning light like little amethyst beads. The trail is
• 53:57
  Speaker 1: as fresh as the morning dew itself. Thistle stepped down
• 54:01
  Speaker 1: from the threshold, his heavy boots sinking gently into the
• 54:05
  Speaker 1: moss with a soft comforting squelch. Our friend was heading
• 54:10
  Speaker 1: east toward the silver birch grove. That is the sunniest
• 54:15
  Speaker 1: part of the forest at this hour. Let us follow
• 54:19
  Speaker 1: and keep our eyes open for any resting spots along
• 54:22
  Speaker 1: the way. A five-pound earthenware basin is no light load
• 54:27
  Speaker 1: for a bird to carry, even with the strongest wings.
• 54:31
  Speaker 1: The three friends set out together across the mossy knoll,
• 54:39
  Speaker 1: The morning was unfolding with breathtaking beauty. The silver mist
• 54:44
  Speaker 1: had completely vanished, carried away by a soft, warm breeze
• 54:50
  Speaker 1: that drifted through the high canopy, setting the yellow birch
• 54:54
  Speaker 1: leaves to dancing like golden butterflies against the pale blue sky.
• 54:59
  Speaker 1: The air was filled with the peaceful music of the woods,
• 55:03
  Speaker 1: the distant, sleepy gurgle of murmur brook flowing over its
• 55:07
  Speaker 1: rounded river pebbles. the rhythmic tapping of a nuthatch searching
• 55:12
  Speaker 1: for seeds in the bark of an ancient beach, and
• 55:15
  Speaker 1: the gentle, dry rustle of fallen leaves beneath their own paws.
• 55:21
  Speaker 1: They walked at a steady, unhurried pace. Moss walked in
• 55:26
  Speaker 1: the center, his spectacles perched securely upon his nose, his
• 55:31
  Speaker 1: blackthorn stick guiding his path, thistle walked to his right,
• 55:35
  Speaker 1: his broad shoulders swinging in a steady, calming rhythm. Fern
• 55:44
  Speaker 1: bounded lightly to their left, occasionally hopping onto a fallen
• 55:49
  Speaker 1: log or the low branch of an elder bush to
• 55:52
  Speaker 1: scan the path ahead with her bright, inquisitive eyes. The
• 56:06
  Speaker 1: jammy trail led them across the mossy knoll and down
• 56:10
  Speaker 1: into the silver birch grove, Here the white trunks of
• 56:14
  Speaker 1: the birch trees stood like slender silver pillars, their paper
• 56:18
  Speaker 1: then bark peeling in delicate curls that caught the morning light.
• 56:23
  Speaker 1: The forest floor in the grove was blanketed in a
• 56:26
  Speaker 1: golden carpet of small, triangular leaves that gave off a sweet,
• 56:31
  Speaker 1: dry perfume beneath their feet. Every few paces, the three
• 56:37
  Speaker 1: companions found another clear sign of their quarry. Upon the
• 56:41
  Speaker 1: pale surface of a flat granite stern, they found two
• 56:45
  Speaker 1: distinct three-toed prints, accompanied by a faint white-ringed oat flower
• 56:50
  Speaker 1: where the bottom of the basin had been set down
• 56:53
  Speaker 1: for a moment while the carrier adjusted her grip. A
• 56:57
  Speaker 1: few yards further, on the curled edge of a fallen
• 57:00
  Speaker 1: birch leaf, they discovered a single wild blackberry seed, glistening
• 57:06
  Speaker 1: with dark purple jam. Our friend is certainly determined, Fern observed,
• 57:16
  Speaker 1: leaping onto a moss-covered birch stump and looking ahead through
• 57:20
  Speaker 1: the trees. She carried the basin straight through the grove
• 57:24
  Speaker 1: without wavering, but look down there, where the land dips
• 57:29
  Speaker 1: into the golden ferndale. The tracks lead right into the bracken.
• 57:34
  Speaker 1: The golden ferndale was one of the most secluded and
• 57:37
  Speaker 1: peaceful hollows in all of Wumblewood. In the summer it
• 57:41
  Speaker 1: was a sea of cool, green fronds, but now, in
• 57:45
  Speaker 1: the golden heart of autumn, the giant bracken ferns had
• 57:49
  Speaker 1: turned a magnificent shade of rich butterscotch, amber, and burnished copper.
• 57:56
  Speaker 1: The ferns arched overhead like golden canopies, creating sheltered tunnels
• 58:02
  Speaker 1: of warm, filtered light through which the footpath wound like
• 58:06
  Speaker 1: a quiet river. Entering the dell, the air grew noticeably warmer,
• 58:11
  Speaker 1: shelter from the autumn breeze by the high surrounding banks.
• 58:20
  Speaker 1: The ground here was soft and sandy, covered with a
• 58:24
  Speaker 1: fine layer of dried pine needles and crumbled fern chaff
• 58:28
  Speaker 1: that held footprints with remarkable precision. Halfway through the dell,
• 58:33
  Speaker 1: the path wound past an ancient, hollowed birch log that
• 58:37
  Speaker 1: had long since become a sanctuary for woodland ramblers. Growing
• 58:43
  Speaker 1: from the side of the log was a large, wide
• 58:46
  Speaker 1: bracket fungus, flat and firm as an oak shelf cushion
• 58:50
  Speaker 1: with a layer of pale green lichen. Look at the
• 58:53
  Speaker 1: bracket fungus, Moss said, pointing with his pencil. They gathered
• 58:58
  Speaker 1: around the ancient log. There, clearly stamped upon the pale
• 59:03
  Speaker 1: lichen surface of the bracket fungus, was a large, perfect
• 59:07
  Speaker 1: circle of purple dams and Arabs. Beside the circle were
• 59:11
  Speaker 1: two sets of tiny three-toed prints, pointing toward each other,
• 59:16
  Speaker 1: as though someone had stood before the shelf, placed the
• 59:20
  Speaker 1: heavy basin upon it, and taken a long, restful stretch.
• 59:29
  Speaker 1: She paused here to rest her wings. Thistle said with
• 59:33
  Speaker 1: a gentle nod of understanding, Carrying such a treasure through
• 59:38
  Speaker 1: the woods is tiring work. It is only natural that
• 59:42
  Speaker 1: she stopped to catch her breath. And speaking of resting,
• 59:46
  Speaker 1: Fern said, twitching her nose with a cheerful smile, Perhaps
• 59:51
  Speaker 1: we ought to follow her wise example. We have walked
• 59:55
  Speaker 1: nearly half a league through the forest. and the morning
• 59:59
  Speaker 1: sun is directly above the treetops. A little refreshment would
• 1:00:04
  Speaker 1: do wonders for our tracking. Moss smiled warmly, unclasping the
• 1:00:09
  Speaker 1: brass buckle of his willow satchel. A splendid suggestion, Fern.
• 1:00:15
  Speaker 1: In Wumblewood, one must never neglect a proper mid-morning pause.
• 1:00:31
  Speaker 1: The three friends settled themselves comfortably upon the mossy trunk
• 1:00:36
  Speaker 1: of the fallen birch log. Moss opened his tin and
• 1:00:40
  Speaker 1: distributed the four round butter biscuits, giving one to Fern,
• 1:00:44
  Speaker 1: one to Thistle, and one to himself, leaving the fourth
• 1:00:48
  Speaker 1: wrapped in clean clover paper for later. The biscuits were crisp, golden,
• 1:00:54
  Speaker 1: and rich with the flavor of churned meadow butter and
• 1:00:57
  Speaker 1: a touch of wild honey. Thistle uncurred his copper flask
• 1:01:02
  Speaker 1: and poured the steaming mint and nettle tea into three
• 1:01:06
  Speaker 1: small cups fashioned from hollowed acorn holes. They sat together
• 1:01:11
  Speaker 1: in the warm, dappled sunlight of the golden fern dell,
• 1:01:15
  Speaker 1: munching their biscuits in happy contentment and sipping the fragrant tea.
• 1:01:20
  Speaker 1: The tea was hot, soothing, and sweet, warming them all
• 1:01:25
  Speaker 1: the way to their paws. Above their heads, The golden
• 1:01:29
  Speaker 1: ferns rustled softly in the gentle draft, whispering peaceful secrets
• 1:01:35
  Speaker 1: of the autumn woods. Who among our feathered neighbors do
• 1:01:42
  Speaker 1: you suppose it could be? Moss mused aloud, brushing a
• 1:01:47
  Speaker 1: crumb of biscuit from his clean linen apron. The robins
• 1:01:51
  Speaker 1: are too small to carry an earthenware basin of that weight,
• 1:01:55
  Speaker 1: even the statist among them. The blackbirds are busy harvesting
• 1:01:59
  Speaker 1: the elderberries by the stream, and the thrushes are down
• 1:02:03
  Speaker 1: in the orchard hunting for snails. Fern tilted her head,
• 1:02:08
  Speaker 1: her bushy tail curling in deep thought. The jackdaws live
• 1:02:12
  Speaker 1: on the western cliffs, far from here, and they prefer
• 1:02:16
  Speaker 1: shiny buttons and silver thimbles to steamed fruit puddings. and
• 1:02:21
  Speaker 1: the wood pigeons are much too clumsy to sneak into
• 1:02:24
  Speaker 1: the great oak cellar without knocking over at least three
• 1:02:28
  Speaker 1: jars of jam. Whoever it is, Thistle rumbled softly, blowing
• 1:02:33
  Speaker 1: gently across his acorn cup. She has uncommonly good taste
• 1:02:38
  Speaker 1: in autumn desserts, and she knows how to handle a
• 1:02:41
  Speaker 1: delicate pastry with great respect. noticed that not a single
• 1:02:49
  Speaker 1: damsel was dropped, nor was the calico torn. It was
• 1:02:53
  Speaker 1: carried with love, not with carelessness. Having finished their tea
• 1:02:59
  Speaker 1: and biscuits, Moss carefully rinsed the acorn cups with a
• 1:03:02
  Speaker 1: few drops of fresh water from Thistle's flask, packed them
• 1:03:06
  Speaker 1: back into his satchel, and brushed down his corduroy trousers. Refreshed, energized,
• 1:03:13
  Speaker 1: and filled with quiet good cheer, the three friends stood
• 1:03:17
  Speaker 1: up from the log, ready to follow the trail out
• 1:03:20
  Speaker 1: of the dell. The footprints led them out of the
• 1:03:23
  Speaker 1: golden fern dell and toward the sunny bank of Murmur Brook. Here,
• 1:03:30
  Speaker 1: the clear woodland stream widened into a shallow, sparkling pool
• 1:03:34
  Speaker 1: where the water murmured over beds of polished amber and
• 1:03:38
  Speaker 1: white river pebbles. Spanning the brook was an ancient stone bridge,
• 1:03:43
  Speaker 1: built many generations ago from smooth, flat river slabs held
• 1:03:48
  Speaker 1: together with river moss and wild ivy. On the far
• 1:03:56
  Speaker 1: side of the stone bridge, sitting upon a sturdy wooden
• 1:04:00
  Speaker 1: bench outside his riverside burrow, was Elder Barnaby Bramblefoot, the
• 1:04:06
  Speaker 1: venerable land tortoise of Womblewood. Because the autumn morning had
• 1:04:11
  Speaker 1: a crisp edge to it, Barnaby was wearing his three
• 1:04:14
  Speaker 1: celebrated woolen waistcoats layered one atop the other, mustard yellow,
• 1:04:20
  Speaker 1: deep forest green, and plum purple. His round brass spectacles
• 1:04:26
  Speaker 1: rested upon the bridge of his wrinkled nose, tied behind
• 1:04:30
  Speaker 1: his neck with a braided ribbon of dried meadowsweet. Barnaby
• 1:04:35
  Speaker 1: was holding a small watering pot made from a folded
• 1:04:39
  Speaker 1: birch bar cone, carefully tending to a border of late-blooming
• 1:04:43
  Speaker 1: yellow autumn primrose that grew along his stone wall. As
• 1:04:48
  Speaker 1: the three friends approached, their boots clicking softly upon the bridgestones,
• 1:04:53
  Speaker 1: the old tortoise looked up, his wrinkled face creasing into
• 1:04:59
  Speaker 1: a slow, benevolent smile that was as warm as afternoon sunshine.
• 1:05:08
  Speaker 1: Good morning, little wanderers, Barnaby rumbled, his voice deep, slow,
• 1:05:14
  Speaker 1: and resonant like smooth river stones tumbling gently beneath a waterfall.
• 1:05:20
  Speaker 1: You are traveling with purpose this morning. Are you out
• 1:05:24
  Speaker 1: gathering autumn nuts for the feast, or simply enjoying the
• 1:05:28
  Speaker 1: golden light upon the ferns? Moss, thistle, and fern walked
• 1:05:34
  Speaker 1: up to the garden gate, bowing politely with gentle flicks
• 1:05:38
  Speaker 1: of their whiskers and tails. Kink morning, Elder Barnaby. Moss
• 1:05:53
  Speaker 1: said respectfully, We are on a very special mission of
• 1:05:57
  Speaker 1: the Pudding Club. Our Great Autumnberry Pudding has gone on
• 1:06:01
  Speaker 1: an unannounced journey from the cellar of the Great Oak
• 1:06:05
  Speaker 1: and we are following a trail of jammy bird prints
• 1:06:08
  Speaker 1: across the forest. Barnaby blinked his heavy, wise eyelids slowly,
• 1:06:14
  Speaker 1: and then a deep, rumbling chuckle began in the center
• 1:06:18
  Speaker 1: of his shell, shaking all three of his woolen waistcoats
• 1:06:22
  Speaker 1: with gentle amusement. A pudding journey, you say? Barnaby chuckled,
• 1:06:28
  Speaker 1: setting down his birchbark watering pot. Ah, yes, the mystery
• 1:06:33
  Speaker 1: of the flying damson. I believe I can shed a
• 1:06:37
  Speaker 1: little light upon your path, my dear friends. The three
• 1:06:41
  Speaker 1: companions leaned forward eagerly, their ears and whiskers perked with anticipation.
• 1:06:52
  Speaker 1: Just after the first morning mist cleared from the brook,
• 1:06:56
  Speaker 1: Barnaby continued. Adjusting his brass spectacles with a slow, leathery paw,
• 1:07:02
  Speaker 1: around the third hour of the daylight, I was sitting
• 1:07:06
  Speaker 1: right here upon this bench, taking my morning air. Down
• 1:07:09
  Speaker 1: the footpath from the great oak came young Starling. She
• 1:07:13
  Speaker 1: was bustling along with that wonderful, energetic hop of hers,
• 1:07:18
  Speaker 1: whistling a lively autumn tune that sounded like the bubbling
• 1:07:22
  Speaker 1: of a tea kettle. Starling. Fern gasped softly. her paws
• 1:07:28
  Speaker 1: flying to her mouth in realization. Of course, Starling the songbird. Indeed,
• 1:07:35
  Speaker 1: Barnaby nodded, his slow smile deepening. She had a large
• 1:07:40
  Speaker 1: wicker harness strapped across her breast, woven from willow whiffs,
• 1:07:45
  Speaker 1: and nestled securely inside that harness was a large, heavy
• 1:07:50
  Speaker 1: earthenware basin, covered in clean calico and tied with a
• 1:07:54
  Speaker 1: braided ribbon of sweet grass. And, oh, my friends, the
• 1:07:59
  Speaker 1: aroma that accompanied her. His was a perfume of steamed blackberries,
• 1:08:07
  Speaker 1: stewed damsons, and toasted nutmegs so magnificent that my primroses
• 1:08:13
  Speaker 1: practically turned their heads toward the path to catch the scent.
• 1:08:17
  Speaker 1: Did she say where she's going, Elder Barnaby? Thistle asked,
• 1:08:22
  Speaker 1: his rumbling voice filled with quiet curiosity. She paused at
• 1:08:27
  Speaker 1: my gate for just a moment to bid me good day,
• 1:08:30
  Speaker 1: Barnaby replied, leaning back against his warm wooden bench. She
• 1:08:35
  Speaker 1: told me she had important business in her pantry and
• 1:08:39
  Speaker 1: that she had to get her precious burden settled before
• 1:08:42
  Speaker 1: the autumn sun grew too worn on the paths. She
• 1:08:45
  Speaker 1: crossed the bridge, turned up the eastern trail- and headed
• 1:08:50
  Speaker 1: straight toward her cottage in the high hawthorn thicket. Moss, thistle,
• 1:08:55
  Speaker 1: and fern looked at one another, their faces breaking into broads.
• 1:09:00
  Speaker 1: relieved smiles. The mystery was solved. There was no danger,
• 1:09:06
  Speaker 1: no thief, and no disaster. It was simply their dear,
• 1:09:15
  Speaker 1: cheerful friend's darling. the most generous and energetic bird in
• 1:09:21
  Speaker 1: all of Wumblewood. Thank you, Elder Barnaby, Moss said, bowing deeply.
• 1:09:27
  Speaker 1: Your wisdom and sharp eyes have guided our steps. We
• 1:09:32
  Speaker 1: shall go to Starling Cottage at once. Go along, little friends,
• 1:09:37
  Speaker 1: Barnaby rumbled with a slow wave of his leathery paw.
• 1:09:41
  Speaker 1: Give Starling my warmest greetings, and tell her I look
• 1:09:46
  Speaker 1: forward to tasting that magnificent pudding at the feast tonight.
• 1:09:50
  Speaker 1: With light steps and joyous hearts, the three companions bade
• 1:09:55
  Speaker 1: farewell to the venerable tortoise and turned their steps up
• 1:09:59
  Speaker 1: the winding eastern trail. The path climbed gently along the
• 1:10:04
  Speaker 1: sunny ridge, where the wild hazel gave way to groves
• 1:10:08
  Speaker 1: of crabapple trees heavy with scarlet fruit. and thickets of
• 1:10:12
  Speaker 1: wild hawthorn whose branches were laden with glossy red berries.
• 1:10:18
  Speaker 1: As they walked, the tracks became even easier to follow.
• 1:10:27
  Speaker 1: Here and there upon a flat stone, they saw the
• 1:10:30
  Speaker 1: neat three toad prints, and once, Caught upon a low
• 1:10:34
  Speaker 1: blackberry thorn, Moss found a tiny snip of yellow embroidery thread,
• 1:10:39
  Speaker 1: the very thread that Starling used to decorate her kitchen aprons.
• 1:10:44
  Speaker 1: Ahead of them, nestled in the sheltered crook of an
• 1:10:47
  Speaker 1: ancient wild pear tree, the thatched roof of Starling Cottage
• 1:10:52
  Speaker 1: came into view beneath the golden autumn sky, and drifting
• 1:10:56
  Speaker 1: down the path on the sweet morning breeze was the warm,
• 1:11:00
  Speaker 1: unmistakable fragrance of steamed berry pudding. The path climbed gently
• 1:11:14
  Speaker 1: up the eastern ridge, where the high trees gave way
• 1:11:18
  Speaker 1: to an open, sun-drenched slope overlooking the rolling green sea
• 1:11:23
  Speaker 1: of Wumblewood. Here, Sheltered from the autumn drafts by a
• 1:11:28
  Speaker 1: grand natural amphitheater of sandstone rocks stood the high hawthorn thicket.
• 1:11:34
  Speaker 1: In this sunny corner of the woods, the air was
• 1:11:37
  Speaker 1: always a few degrees warmer than in the deep valleys,
• 1:11:41
  Speaker 1: carrying the sweet, dry perfume of sun-baked heather, drying row ships,
• 1:11:47
  Speaker 1: and sweet fallen crabapples that lay like scarlet jewels among
• 1:11:52
  Speaker 1: the grass. Tucked into the sturdy fork of an ancient
• 1:11:55
  Speaker 1: wild pear tree and protected by the sweeping boughs of
• 1:11:59
  Speaker 1: an enormous berry-laden hawthorn bush stood Starling Cottage. It was,
• 1:12:05
  Speaker 1: by all accounts, one of the most delightful and imaginative
• 1:12:09
  Speaker 1: homes in all the woodland. The cottage walls had been
• 1:12:17
  Speaker 1: constructed from supple willowis, woven with the exquisite skill of
• 1:12:21
  Speaker 1: a master basket-maker and daubed with smooth, honey-colored river clay
• 1:12:27
  Speaker 1: that had been baked hard by seasons of summer sun.
• 1:12:30
  Speaker 1: The roof was a thick, handsome satch of dry heather
• 1:12:34
  Speaker 1: stems and golden wheat straw, over which velvety cushions of
• 1:12:38
  Speaker 1: green moss and wild honeysuckle vines clambered in friendly profusion.
• 1:12:44
  Speaker 1: From the center of the thatched roof rose a miniature
• 1:12:47
  Speaker 1: chimney fashioned from an antique terracotta drainpipe, from which curled
• 1:12:52
  Speaker 1: a cheerful, steady plume of pale blue birchwood smoke. The
• 1:12:57
  Speaker 1: front garden was a tiny paradise of woodland order. A
• 1:13:01
  Speaker 1: winding pathway surfaced with crushed hazelnut shells and fragrant cedar chips,
• 1:13:07
  Speaker 1: edged with smooth river pebbles and neat borders of late-blooming
• 1:13:11
  Speaker 1: yellow marigolds and purple automasters. The neat trail of jammy
• 1:13:20
  Speaker 1: bird prints led straight off the main woodland footpath, passed
• 1:13:24
  Speaker 1: through the open garden gate, woven from peeled willow and
• 1:13:29
  Speaker 1: standing wide in hospitable welcome, and continued right up the
• 1:13:33
  Speaker 1: crunchy shell walkway. But the tracks did not lead to
• 1:13:37
  Speaker 1: the front porch with its carved cedar bench. Instead, they
• 1:13:41
  Speaker 1: veered to the left. following a flagstone side path that
• 1:13:45
  Speaker 1: led around the corner of the cottage toward the sunny,
• 1:13:49
  Speaker 1: open Dutch door of Starling's famous pantry. Moss, thistle, and
• 1:13:55
  Speaker 1: fern slowed their pace, walking with soft, respectful steps along
• 1:14:00
  Speaker 1: the cedar chips. The mystery that had begun in the dim,
• 1:14:04
  Speaker 1: cool depths of the great oak cellar had led them
• 1:14:07
  Speaker 1: across leagues of moss, through birch groves and fern-carpeted dells,
• 1:14:13
  Speaker 1: and now stood on the very threshold of its gentle conclusion.
• 1:14:18
  Speaker 1: The Dutch door of the pantry was split horizontally across
• 1:14:22
  Speaker 1: the middle. The lower half was latched shut. to keep
• 1:14:30
  Speaker 1: out wandering hedgehog quills or curious field voles, while the
• 1:14:35
  Speaker 1: upper half was swung wide open, inviting the clean, crisp
• 1:14:39
  Speaker 1: autumn air to circulate freely through the interior. Moss stood
• 1:14:44
  Speaker 1: on his ticktoes, his paws resting upon the smooth wooden
• 1:14:48
  Speaker 1: sill of the lower door, with Thistle leaning gently beside
• 1:14:52
  Speaker 1: him and Fern perching lightly upon the porch railing. Together,
• 1:14:56
  Speaker 1: they peered into the sunlit room within. If the curing
• 1:15:00
  Speaker 1: cellar of the Great Oak was a sanctuary of cool
• 1:15:03
  Speaker 1: stone and dark tranquility, Starling's Pantry was a temple of
• 1:15:08
  Speaker 1: golden light, immaculate order, and woodland abundance. The floor was
• 1:15:14
  Speaker 1: laid with broad, smooth flagstones of pale blue river slate,
• 1:15:19
  Speaker 1: scrubbed until not a speck of dust remained, and sprinkled
• 1:15:23
  Speaker 1: lightly with dried lavender blossoms that released their calming scent.
• 1:15:28
  Speaker 1: sweet fragrance into the air with every movement. High overhead,
• 1:15:37
  Speaker 1: exposed rafters of seasoned red cedars spanned the ceiling, from
• 1:15:42
  Speaker 1: which hung dozens of fragrant bundles of ropes, each tied
• 1:15:46
  Speaker 1: with a neat loop of red yarn, sweet marjoram, wild thyme,
• 1:15:51
  Speaker 1: mountain sage, peppermint, and dried elderflowers that swayed gently in
• 1:15:57
  Speaker 1: the draft. Hillon the whitewashed walls ran wide shelves carved
• 1:16:12
  Speaker 1: from solid, seasoned pine, held aloft by carved wooden brackets
• 1:16:16
  Speaker 1: shaped like leaping squirrels and flying swallows. Every shelf was
• 1:16:21
  Speaker 1: grooved to hold rows of gleaming glass jars and glazed
• 1:16:26
  Speaker 1: earthenware crocks, all arranged with meticulous precision according to color
• 1:16:31
  Speaker 1: and season. There were jars of wild blackberry preserves that
• 1:16:35
  Speaker 1: caught the morning light like polished garnets, jars of spiced
• 1:16:40
  Speaker 1: crap apple jelly glowing with the golden clarity of amber,
• 1:16:44
  Speaker 1: stone crocks of honeyed damsons, and earthenware pots of pickled
• 1:16:49
  Speaker 1: walnuts and roasted hazelnut butter. Each jar was adorned with
• 1:16:54
  Speaker 1: a small parchment label cut from white birch bark, upon
• 1:16:58
  Speaker 1: which the name of the preserve was written in fine
• 1:17:00
  Speaker 1: looping curses, And in the center of the pantry, directly
• 1:17:09
  Speaker 1: beneath a wide, north-facing window fitted with fine wire gauze
• 1:17:14
  Speaker 1: to admit the cool mountain breeze while excluding drifting leaves,
• 1:17:18
  Speaker 1: sat a large, scrubbed pinework table. The tabletop was white
• 1:17:24
  Speaker 1: as bleached bone from decades of careful soaping and sand scrubbing,
• 1:17:29
  Speaker 1: and there resting proudly in the very middle of that
• 1:17:32
  Speaker 1: scrubbed table was the lost treasure of Wumblewood. It was
• 1:17:36
  Speaker 1: the great autumn berry pudding. There could not be the
• 1:17:40
  Speaker 1: slightest doubt. It sat comfortably inside its heavy, cream-colored earthenware basin,
• 1:17:47
  Speaker 1: completely intact, completely undamaged, and radiating an aura of magnificent,
• 1:17:54
  Speaker 1: festive dignity. Starling had treated the pudding with the utmost reverence.
• 1:18:00
  Speaker 1: Over the double layer of bleached calico cloth, she had
• 1:18:03
  Speaker 1: draped a freshly laundered linen tea towel, embroidered with blue
• 1:18:08
  Speaker 1: gentians and yellow buttercups. And tucked neatly behind the four
• 1:18:17
  Speaker 1: braided knots of the sweet grass ribbon was a fresh
• 1:18:21
  Speaker 1: sprig of dried sweet woodruff, adding its gentle, vanilla-like perfume
• 1:18:27
  Speaker 1: to the rich aroma of stewed damsons and cinnamon that
• 1:18:31
  Speaker 1: drifted through the pantry air. Moss let out a long,
• 1:18:35
  Speaker 1: soft sigh of overwhelming relief, his spectacles fogging slightly from
• 1:18:40
  Speaker 1: the warmth of his breath. Thistle's kind face broke into
• 1:18:44
  Speaker 1: a broad, crinkling smile that showed all his blunt hedgehog teeth.
• 1:18:50
  Speaker 1: and Fern gave a joyful, silent clap of her paws,
• 1:18:54
  Speaker 1: her bushy tail swishing with delight. At that very moment,
• 1:18:59
  Speaker 1: from the adjoining kitchen, through the open inner doorway, came
• 1:19:03
  Speaker 1: the sound of quick, bouncy footsteps accompanied by a bright,
• 1:19:07
  Speaker 1: melodic whistling. The tune was cheerful and bubbling, sounding remarkably
• 1:19:13
  Speaker 1: like a mountain brook dancing of verseni stones. A heartbeat later,
• 1:19:18
  Speaker 1: Starling herself hopped into the pantry. She was a songbird
• 1:19:23
  Speaker 1: of uncommon elegance and irrepressible energy. Her sleek, glossy feathers
• 1:19:33
  Speaker 1: were a marvel of natural artistry, shimmering with iridescent flashes
• 1:19:38
  Speaker 1: of deep violet. bottle green, and burnished bronze whenever she
• 1:19:42
  Speaker 1: moved through the beams of autumn sunlight. Her slender, dark
• 1:19:47
  Speaker 1: eyes were bright with lively intelligence, and her yellow beak
• 1:19:52
  Speaker 1: was clean, sharp, and curved in an expression of perpetual
• 1:19:56
  Speaker 1: good humor. Around her slender waist, Starling wore a crisp,
• 1:20:02
  Speaker 1: tailored apron of pale primrose linen, fitted with several deep pockets.
• 1:20:07
  Speaker 1: In one pocket, rested a small feather duster made of
• 1:20:12
  Speaker 1: soft down, and in another was a scraw of soft
• 1:20:16
  Speaker 1: yellow flannel. In her wingtips she was holding a magnificent,
• 1:20:21
  Speaker 1: oval-serving tray of polished silver plate, which she had evidently
• 1:20:26
  Speaker 1: been buffing with great enthusiasm, for it gleamed like a
• 1:20:30
  Speaker 1: mirror in the morning light. Can Starling turn toward the
• 1:20:44
  Speaker 1: work table with her gleaming tray, she suddenly noticed the
• 1:20:48
  Speaker 1: three pairs of friendly eyes peering over the lower half
• 1:20:52
  Speaker 1: of her pantry door. She paused in mid-hop, her head
• 1:20:57
  Speaker 1: cocking to the side with chalming curiosity. Then, recognizing her
• 1:21:01
  Speaker 1: dear friends, she let out a delighted, flute-like chirp of
• 1:21:06
  Speaker 1: greeting that rang through the cottage like a crystal bell. Why?
• 1:21:11
  Speaker 1: Bless my wings and feathers, Starling cried, setting the silver
• 1:21:16
  Speaker 1: tray safely upon the table and Flutter hopping over to
• 1:21:19
  Speaker 1: the door. With a quick flick of her wingtip, she
• 1:21:23
  Speaker 1: lifted the brass latch of the lower door and swung
• 1:21:26
  Speaker 1: it wide. Moss, thistle, fern. What a glorious, golden surprise.
• 1:21:35
  Speaker 1: Come in, come in. My dear woodland neighbors, wipe your
• 1:21:40
  Speaker 1: boots on the rushed mat and step out of the
• 1:21:42
  Speaker 1: morning breeze. What brings the three most industrious creatures of
• 1:21:51
  Speaker 1: Wumblewood all the way up to my sunny thicket on
• 1:21:54
  Speaker 1: the morning of the feast? Moss stepped through the doorway,
• 1:21:58
  Speaker 1: removing his hat and bowing with courtly politeness, followed closely
• 1:22:03
  Speaker 1: by Thistle and Fern. Good morning, dear starling, Moss began,
• 1:22:09
  Speaker 1: his voice warm and gentle, though his whiskers twitched with
• 1:22:14
  Speaker 1: quiet amusement. We have come upon a rather unusual journey
• 1:22:19
  Speaker 1: this morning. We have followed a trail of tiny jammy
• 1:22:23
  Speaker 1: three-toed footprints all the way from the root cellar of
• 1:22:26
  Speaker 1: the Great Oak, across the mossy knoll, through the silver
• 1:22:30
  Speaker 1: birch grove, down into the golden ferndale, past Elder Barnaby's Bridge,
• 1:22:36
  Speaker 1: and straight up to your lovely work table, Moss pointed
• 1:22:40
  Speaker 1: his blackthorn walking stick gently toward the center of the room.
• 1:22:45
  Speaker 1: We were wondering, you see, how our great autumnberry pudding
• 1:22:53
  Speaker 1: came to be resting in your sunlit pantry. Starling looked
• 1:22:56
  Speaker 1: from Moss to the pudding and then down at her
• 1:23:00
  Speaker 1: own little feet. For a moment, Her round amber eyes
• 1:23:05
  Speaker 1: went wide with sudden astonishment. She lifted one foot, looked
• 1:23:10
  Speaker 1: at the delicate three toes, and noticed a tiny, faint
• 1:23:15
  Speaker 1: smudge of dark purple danson, juice still clinging to the
• 1:23:19
  Speaker 1: edge of her rear claw. Then she clasped her wings
• 1:23:22
  Speaker 1: together against her primrose apron. And a burst of clear,
• 1:23:27
  Speaker 1: musical laughter spilled from her beak, echoing off the cedar
• 1:23:31
  Speaker 1: rafters and the gleaming jars of jam. Oh, my dear friends. Oh,
• 1:23:37
  Speaker 1: my wonderful, foolish wings. Starling laughed, her feathers shimmering with amusement.
• 1:23:44
  Speaker 1: You followed my footprints. You thought your pudding was lost. Oh,
• 1:23:50
  Speaker 1: forgive me. Forgive me a thousand times. Think. Think from things.
• 1:24:00
  Speaker 1: Come seat yourselves down upon the cushioned benches while I
• 1:24:03
  Speaker 1: explain the whole silly, wonderful tale. Starling ushered the three
• 1:24:09
  Speaker 1: friends through the pantry and into her adjoining kitchen, where
• 1:24:13
  Speaker 1: a cheerful fire danced in a miniature brick hearth and
• 1:24:17
  Speaker 1: a kettle of polished brass was already singing its welcoming
• 1:24:21
  Speaker 1: morning song upon the stove. She pulled out three low
• 1:24:25
  Speaker 1: stools cushioned with carded wool and sold her guests comfortably,
• 1:24:30
  Speaker 1: bustling about to pour them each a generous cup of warm,
• 1:24:34
  Speaker 1: spiced elderberry cordial sweetened with summer wildflower honey. You see,
• 1:24:40
  Speaker 1: Starling began, perching lightly upon the back of a wooden
• 1:24:44
  Speaker 1: armchair and smoothing her iridescent feathers with her beak. Yesterday afternoon,
• 1:24:50
  Speaker 1: Just as the sun was beginning to touch the western ridge,
• 1:24:55
  Speaker 1: I flew down to the great oak to deliver a
• 1:24:58
  Speaker 1: basket of our finest late-season honey, peers as a gift
• 1:25:02
  Speaker 1: for the feast. The great oak's hall was empty, but
• 1:25:10
  Speaker 1: I knew the fruit should be kept in a cool place,
• 1:25:13
  Speaker 1: so I carried the basket down the root stairs to
• 1:25:16
  Speaker 1: the storage cellar. I placed my pears upon the fruit shelf,
• 1:25:30
  Speaker 1: Starling continued, her voice full of tender earnestness, and as
• 1:25:36
  Speaker 1: I turned to leave, I saw your magnificent berry pudding
• 1:25:40
  Speaker 1: sitting upon the cooling table. Beside the basin was a
• 1:25:44
  Speaker 1: small wooden chalkboard left by the cleaning committee. It said,
• 1:25:50
  Speaker 1: Autumn Feast Pudding. Must be kept in a cool, well-aired
• 1:25:54
  Speaker 1: pantry to cure before the feast. Moss blinked. Yes, I
• 1:26:00
  Speaker 1: wrote that slate myself, to remind everyone not to disturb
• 1:26:04
  Speaker 1: it while it settled. Indeed, Starling nodded enthusiastically. And right
• 1:26:11
  Speaker 1: below your note was another note from old Bramble the Badger,
• 1:26:15
  Speaker 1: stating that he intended to sweep and wash the cellar
• 1:26:19
  Speaker 1: flagstones early this morning with strong lavender soap and slaked lime.
• 1:26:24
  Speaker 1: Starling leaned forward. her amber eyes wide with sincere concern.
• 1:26:30
  Speaker 1: My dear friends, you know how strong lime dust can be.
• 1:26:34
  Speaker 1: When lime dust rises into the air, it can penetrate
• 1:26:39
  Speaker 1: even the tightest weave of linen calico. If that powdery
• 1:26:47
  Speaker 1: dust had settled upon your beautiful, delicate steam crust, it
• 1:26:53
  Speaker 1: would have ruined the sweet damson glaze that you worked
• 1:26:56
  Speaker 1: so hard to create. And what is more, the root
• 1:27:00
  Speaker 1: cellar can become quite damp and stuffy when the flagstones
• 1:27:04
  Speaker 1: are washed, whereas a fine berry pudding needs pure, moving
• 1:27:08
  Speaker 1: mountain air to set its crust properly. Starling fluttered her
• 1:27:13
  Speaker 1: wings with pride. So I thought to myself, Starling, You
• 1:27:18
  Speaker 1: have the coolest, breeziest, most perfectly ventilated north-facing pantry in
• 1:27:25
  Speaker 1: all of Wumblewood. The air coming off the sandstone ridge
• 1:27:29
  Speaker 1: is sweet, dry, and pure as mountain water. You must
• 1:27:34
  Speaker 1: take this precious pudding into your care, shelter it from
• 1:27:37
  Speaker 1: the lime dust, and keep it safe until the feast.
• 1:27:41
  Speaker 1: So you strapped on your wicker harness, Thistle murmured, a slow,
• 1:27:46
  Speaker 1: gentle smiles spreading across his snout. I strapped on my
• 1:27:50
  Speaker 1: willow harness, Starling agreed happily. I lifted the basin with
• 1:27:59
  Speaker 1: both wings and both feet, and oh, my stars, it
• 1:28:05
  Speaker 1: is a magnificent weight, and I carried it through the
• 1:28:08
  Speaker 1: dawn mist straight up to my thicket. I placed it
• 1:28:12
  Speaker 1: in the coolest draft beneath my north window, tucked a clean,
• 1:28:17
  Speaker 1: embroidered towel over it, and spent the last two hours
• 1:28:21
  Speaker 1: polishing our finest silver serving tray so that your masterpiece
• 1:28:26
  Speaker 1: could be presented to the woodlid with the grandeur it
• 1:28:30
  Speaker 1: so richly deserves. A great, warm wave of affectionate laughter
• 1:28:36
  Speaker 1: filled the cozy kitchen. Moss took off his little spectacles
• 1:28:41
  Speaker 1: wiping a tear of pure mirth from his eye with
• 1:28:44
  Speaker 1: the corner of his handkerchief. Thistle rumbled with deep, belly-shaking
• 1:28:49
  Speaker 1: chuckles that made his mustard sweater bob up and down,
• 1:28:53
  Speaker 1: and Fern giggled until her bushy tail trembled like an
• 1:28:58
  Speaker 1: aspen leaf in the wind. There was no anger, no annoyance,
• 1:29:03
  Speaker 1: and not a single shred of blame. In Wumblewood, misunderstandings
• 1:29:12
  Speaker 1: were always born of kindness, and kindness was something to
• 1:29:17
  Speaker 1: be celebrated with joy and gratitude. Starling, you're a treasure,
• 1:29:23
  Speaker 1: Moss said warmly, replacing his spectacles and looking at the
• 1:29:27
  Speaker 1: songbird with deep affection. You did not steal our pudding.
• 1:29:32
  Speaker 1: You rescued it from lime dust and dampness. You provided
• 1:29:37
  Speaker 1: it with the finest curing pantry in the entire forest.
• 1:29:41
  Speaker 1: We could not have asked for a more devoted or
• 1:29:44
  Speaker 1: thoughtful guardian. And look how well it has rested, Fern added,
• 1:29:49
  Speaker 1: pointing toward the open pantry door where the pudding sat
• 1:29:53
  Speaker 1: in its pool of golden sunlight. The calico is dry
• 1:29:58
  Speaker 1: and taut. The sweetgrass ribbon is fresh, and the perfume
• 1:30:02
  Speaker 1: of the damsons is richer and sweeter than it was yesterday.
• 1:30:07
  Speaker 1: Your cool mountain air has worked wonders on the crumb.
• 1:30:10
  Speaker 1: Starling beamed with sheer delight, her chest puffy out with happiness. Then,
• 1:30:21
  Speaker 1: you are not cross with me for borrowing it without
• 1:30:24
  Speaker 1: a signature in your ledger, Moss? Cross with you? Moss
• 1:30:28
  Speaker 1: exclaimed softly, never in a hundred seasons. In fact, as
• 1:30:33
  Speaker 1: the recipe keeper of the pudding club, I hereby appoint
• 1:30:37
  Speaker 1: you an honorary guardian of the feast. You shall sit
• 1:30:40
  Speaker 1: at the head table tonight, right between Thistle and myself,
• 1:30:45
  Speaker 1: and it will be your honor to carry the silver
• 1:30:48
  Speaker 1: plighter onto the village green when the feast begins. Starling
• 1:30:52
  Speaker 1: let out a joyous trill of birdsong that set the
• 1:30:55
  Speaker 1: brass kettle to humming in sympathy. Oh, thank you, Moss.
• 1:31:00
  Speaker 1: Thank you, Thistle. It will be the proudest moment of
• 1:31:04
  Speaker 1: my life. With the mystery happily solved and their hearts
• 1:31:18
  Speaker 1: overflowing with relief, The four friends spent a leisurely, golden
• 1:31:23
  Speaker 1: hour round the kitchen table. Starling served a fresh plate
• 1:31:27
  Speaker 1: of toasted caraway seed biscuits spread with golden dandelion butter,
• 1:31:33
  Speaker 1: and they sipped their warm elderberry cordial in unhurried comfort.
• 1:31:37
  Speaker 1: They talked of the upcoming feast, of the songs the
• 1:31:41
  Speaker 1: thrushes were preparing for of the grand bonfires that would
• 1:31:45
  Speaker 1: be lit upon the village green, and of the peaceful
• 1:31:49
  Speaker 1: winter sleep that awaited them all once the celebrations were done.
• 1:31:54
  Speaker 1: Outside the cottage the autumn afternoon matured into a mellow,
• 1:31:58
  Speaker 1: golden perfection, the shadows of the wild pear tree lengthened
• 1:32:02
  Speaker 1: across the grass, and the breeze through the hawthorn boughs
• 1:32:06
  Speaker 1: grew soft, gentle, and slow, carrying the soothing whisper of
• 1:32:11
  Speaker 1: the turning season. Presently, Thistle stood up and smoothed his
• 1:32:16
  Speaker 1: saffron sweater. The sun is beginning its gentle descent toward
• 1:32:25
  Speaker 1: the western ridge, my friends. It is time for us
• 1:32:29
  Speaker 1: to prepare for our journey down to the village green. Together.
• 1:32:34
  Speaker 1: With reverent care and coordinated teamwork, they carried the great
• 1:32:39
  Speaker 1: cream-colored earthenware basin from the pantry work table and set
• 1:32:43
  Speaker 1: it upon Starling's gleaming silver serving tray. Forn adjusted the
• 1:32:48
  Speaker 1: embroidered linen towel so that the blue gentians lay straight
• 1:32:53
  Speaker 1: across the center. Thistle checked the sweetgrass ribbon to make
• 1:32:58
  Speaker 1: sure the knots were neat, and Moss lightly brushed away
• 1:33:01
  Speaker 1: a stray speck of dust with his flannel cloth. The
• 1:33:05
  Speaker 1: pudding looked magnificent, a true crowning glory for the woodland harvest, safe, sound,
• 1:33:12
  Speaker 1: and ready to bring happiness to every burrow, nest, and
• 1:33:16
  Speaker 1: hollow in Wumblewood. Moss fastened the buckle of his willow
• 1:33:21
  Speaker 1: traveling satchel while Thistle took up his sturdy blackthorn walking stick.
• 1:33:30
  Speaker 1: Starling untied her primrose kitchen apron, smoothed her iridescent plumage,
• 1:33:37
  Speaker 1: and proudly lifted two braided carrying straps attached to the
• 1:33:41
  Speaker 1: silver tray, while Fern and Thistle took hold of the
• 1:33:45
  Speaker 1: opposite handles to share the joyful wait. As they stepped
• 1:33:49
  Speaker 1: out of Starling Cottage and onto the shell-strewn garden path,
• 1:33:54
  Speaker 1: the late afternoon light was washing the woodland in shades
• 1:33:57
  Speaker 1: of honey amber and soft lavender. The air was cool
• 1:34:02
  Speaker 1: and invigorating, carrying the promise of a starry, tranquil night.
• 1:34:08
  Speaker 1: Everything was in its proper place. The forest was at peace,
• 1:34:12
  Speaker 1: the pudding was safe, and the friendship between the woodland
• 1:34:16
  Speaker 1: folk was stronger and sweeter than ever before. As we
• 1:34:21
  Speaker 1: leave our dear friends walking down the winding trail toward
• 1:34:24
  Speaker 1: the village green, their hearts light and their steps study
• 1:34:29
  Speaker 1: take another deep quiet breath. Feel the gentle warmth of
• 1:34:37
  Speaker 1: your blankets, the comforting softness of your pillow, and the
• 1:34:42
  Speaker 1: peaceful hush that settles over your room. Like the quiet
• 1:34:46
  Speaker 1: creatures of Wumblewood, you are safe, sheltered, and protected from
• 1:34:51
  Speaker 1: all care. Let your eyes close softly. Let your thoughts
• 1:34:56
  Speaker 1: wander like fallen leaves on a calm stream. and drift
• 1:35:00
  Speaker 1: into a sweet, deep, and untroubled sleep. Good night, Womblewood.
• 1:35:06
  Speaker 1: Good night, dear friends. Sleep well, and sweet dreams. The
• 1:35:20
  Speaker 1: little wooden latch of the pantry door lifted with a soft,
• 1:35:24
  Speaker 1: friendly click that sounded like an acorn dropping into a
• 1:35:28
  Speaker 1: bed of dry moss. Moss the mouse and Thistle the
• 1:35:32
  Speaker 1: hedgehog stood upon the polished threshold of birch bark, their
• 1:35:37
  Speaker 1: small lanterns glowing like twin fireflies against the gathered shadows
• 1:35:42
  Speaker 1: of the early evening. Inside the cozy room, the air
• 1:35:46
  Speaker 1: was warm and rich with the mingled fragrances of dried
• 1:35:51
  Speaker 1: chamomile blossoms, toasted hazelnuts, and something extraordinarily sweet that made
• 1:35:57
  Speaker 1: both of their noses twitch in unison. Starling, perched upon
• 1:36:03
  Speaker 1: the back of a woven willow stool beside her round
• 1:36:06
  Speaker 1: cedar table, gave a sudden start. Her glossy feathers, shimmering
• 1:36:11
  Speaker 1: with subtle flecks of beetle green and deep violet in
• 1:36:15
  Speaker 1: the candlelight, ruffled an immediate surprise, and her bright, dark
• 1:36:21
  Speaker 1: eyes widened as she looked from Moss's woolen waistcoat down
• 1:36:25
  Speaker 1: to Thistle's round, thoughtful face. For a moment, there was
• 1:36:33
  Speaker 1: complete silence in the pantry, broken only by the gentle
• 1:36:38
  Speaker 1: singing of a copper kettle upon the miniature stone hearth.
• 1:36:42
  Speaker 1: Then Starling's gaze traveled downward to the floor where faint,
• 1:36:46
  Speaker 1: sticky circles of purple berry juice marked the trail she
• 1:36:50
  Speaker 1: had left behind her. The realization struck her like a
• 1:36:54
  Speaker 1: sudden breeze rustling through hazel leaves. A soft gasp escaped
• 1:37:00
  Speaker 1: her beak and she hopped down from the stool with quick,
• 1:37:03
  Speaker 1: fluttery hops her wings half-spread in deep dismay. She looked
• 1:37:09
  Speaker 1: at the great stoneware basin resting safely in the center
• 1:37:12
  Speaker 1: of her table, covered in a clean white linen cloth,
• 1:37:17
  Speaker 1: embroidered with sprigs of rosemary, and then looked back at
• 1:37:21
  Speaker 1: her two visitors, her head bowed low, almost touching the
• 1:37:25
  Speaker 1: clean fur boards of her floor. Oh, bless my feathers,
• 1:37:30
  Speaker 1: Starling whispered, her voice trembling with earnest sorrow and confusion. Oh,
• 1:37:41
  Speaker 1: dear moss-kind thistle, please tell me I have not done
• 1:37:44
  Speaker 1: what I fear I have done. You have followed the
• 1:37:47
  Speaker 1: berry tracks, have you not? You have come all the
• 1:37:51
  Speaker 1: way from the great hollow oak through the gathering twilight
• 1:37:54
  Speaker 1: because of this pudding. I am so terribly... Terribly sorry,
• 1:38:00
  Speaker 1: I saw the bowl resting on the broad cooling stone
• 1:38:03
  Speaker 1: outside the kitchen door, draped in cool ferns, and tucked
• 1:38:07
  Speaker 1: into the shade. There was no note upon the crock,
• 1:38:11
  Speaker 1: no name, pinned to the cloth, and I truly believed
• 1:38:15
  Speaker 1: it was a surplus batch, a generous offering left out
• 1:38:19
  Speaker 1: for the general foraging of the woodland folk before the
• 1:38:22
  Speaker 1: frost arrives. I never, ever would have carried it away
• 1:38:26
  Speaker 1: had I known it was the centerpiece of the Grand
• 1:38:29
  Speaker 1: autumn feast. Moss stepped forward, taking off his acorn cap
• 1:38:34
  Speaker 1: hat and holding it politely in both paws. His whiskers
• 1:38:39
  Speaker 1: twitched with reassuring gentleness, and his small, dark eyes held
• 1:38:44
  Speaker 1: nothing but warmth. Do not distress yourself, dear starling, Moss said.
• 1:38:55
  Speaker 1: His voice is soft and comforting as clover down. We
• 1:38:59
  Speaker 1: knew right away that whoever borrowed the pudding had done
• 1:39:02
  Speaker 1: so without malice or mischief. There are no thieves in Wumblewood,
• 1:39:08
  Speaker 1: only neighbors whose paths sometimes cross in unexpected ways. When
• 1:39:14
  Speaker 1: we found the empty stone, we were puzzled, to be sure.
• 1:39:19
  Speaker 1: but we knew that an explanation would be waiting at
• 1:39:22
  Speaker 1: the other end of the trail. You must not ruffle
• 1:39:25
  Speaker 1: your feathers in sorrow, for no harm has been done
• 1:39:29
  Speaker 1: and the feast has not yet begun. Thistle nodded slowly,
• 1:39:34
  Speaker 1: setting down his knobby birch-walking stick with a quiet tap
• 1:39:38
  Speaker 1: against the floorboards. His spines, which had been raised slightly
• 1:39:43
  Speaker 1: during the brisk walk through the evening chill, relaxed completely.
• 1:39:48
  Speaker 1: smoothing flat against his rounded back like polished pine scales.
• 1:39:54
  Speaker 1: He gave a low, comforting chuckle that rumbled gently in
• 1:39:58
  Speaker 1: his chest. Moss speaks the exact truth, starling. Think understandings
• 1:40:08
  Speaker 1: are like loose twigs in the woodland pathway. They're easily
• 1:40:12
  Speaker 1: gathered up and cleared away when friends speak kindly together.
• 1:40:17
  Speaker 1: The pudding is safe, our legs are sturdy, and we
• 1:40:21
  Speaker 1: are delighted to find you in good health and fine spirits.
• 1:40:36
  Speaker 1: Starling led out along. fluttering sigh of relief that seemed
• 1:40:40
  Speaker 1: to shake her small frame from the tip of her
• 1:40:43
  Speaker 1: beak to the ends of her tail feathers. She hopped
• 1:40:46
  Speaker 1: onto the table and smoothed her plumage with a neat
• 1:40:50
  Speaker 1: sweep of her wing. You are far too gracious, both
• 1:40:54
  Speaker 1: of you, she said, her eyes shining with gratitude in
• 1:40:58
  Speaker 1: the soft candlelight. Please step inside and sit down by
• 1:41:03
  Speaker 1: the fire. The autumn twilight carries a shark nip tonight,
• 1:41:08
  Speaker 1: and you must warm your paws before we talk of
• 1:41:11
  Speaker 1: carrying anything back across the woods. I have three stools
• 1:41:15
  Speaker 1: of hollow alderwood cushioned with soft, dried lichen, and the
• 1:41:20
  Speaker 1: kettle has just begun to whisper its little song. Moss
• 1:41:24
  Speaker 1: and thistles stepped fully into the cheerful pantry, closing the
• 1:41:29
  Speaker 1: thick birch door behind them to shut out the crisped
• 1:41:32
  Speaker 1: draughts of the evening. The room was round and snub,
• 1:41:36
  Speaker 1: tucked neatly into the hollow of an ancient hawthorn trunk
• 1:41:40
  Speaker 1: that had sheltered forest travelers for many generations. Shelves carved
• 1:41:50
  Speaker 1: from fragrant cedar wood lined the walls, laden with clay
• 1:41:53
  Speaker 1: jars of dried elderberries, bundles of sweet marjoram. bags of
• 1:41:59
  Speaker 1: roasted acorns and small wooden boxes filled with dried apple rings.
• 1:42:04
  Speaker 1: In the center of the room, the stone hearth radiated
• 1:42:08
  Speaker 1: a steady, mellow heat fueled by slow-burning birch twigs and
• 1:42:13
  Speaker 1: fragrant pine cones. Thistle settled himself onto one of the
• 1:42:18
  Speaker 1: lichen-patticed stools, resting his tired paws near the warmth of
• 1:42:23
  Speaker 1: the hearthstones. Moss took the stool beside him, setting his
• 1:42:28
  Speaker 1: acorn cap upon his knee and leaning back with a
• 1:42:31
  Speaker 1: contented murmur. Starling busied herself at once with the hospitality
• 1:42:36
  Speaker 1: that every woodland dweller cherished. From a small cupboard, she
• 1:42:41
  Speaker 1: brought down three tiny cups fashioned from polished walnut shells,
• 1:42:47
  Speaker 1: each fitted with a smooth hazelwood handle. She lifted the
• 1:42:55
  Speaker 1: singing copper kettle with a cloth and poured steaming water
• 1:42:59
  Speaker 1: over a pinch of dried elderflowers, dried mint leaves, and
• 1:43:04
  Speaker 1: sweet linden blossoms that lay waiting in an earthen teapot.
• 1:43:08
  Speaker 1: The fragrance that rose from the teapot was floral and soothing,
• 1:43:13
  Speaker 1: carrying the memory of sunny summer mornings into the cool
• 1:43:17
  Speaker 1: autumn twilight. Starling poured the pale amber infusion into each
• 1:43:22
  Speaker 1: of the walnut cups, presenting them to her guests with
• 1:43:25
  Speaker 1: polite little bows of her head. Drink this first, she
• 1:43:29
  Speaker 1: urged softly. It will loosen the stiffness from your joints
• 1:43:34
  Speaker 1: and settle the hurry of your journey. There is no
• 1:43:37
  Speaker 1: need to rush when a warm hearth and good tea
• 1:43:40
  Speaker 1: are at hand. Moss wrapped both of his paws around
• 1:43:44
  Speaker 1: the warm walnut cup, letting the fragrant steam bathe his
• 1:43:48
  Speaker 1: nose and whiskers. He took a slow, reverent sip and
• 1:43:52
  Speaker 1: feeling the soothing liquid spread its gentle warmth down into
• 1:43:56
  Speaker 1: his chest. This is delicious, Starling, he murmured softly. You
• 1:44:07
  Speaker 1: have always possessed a gifted touch with woodland herbs. The
• 1:44:11
  Speaker 1: elderflower balances the mint with extraordinary grace. Thistle took a
• 1:44:17
  Speaker 1: deep draft from his own cup, closing his eyes as
• 1:44:20
  Speaker 1: a look of deep satisfaction spread over his face. A
• 1:44:24
  Speaker 1: cup of warm tea is the finest medicine for a
• 1:44:28
  Speaker 1: long walk, the hedgehog agreed, setting the cup down upon
• 1:44:32
  Speaker 1: the low cedar bench with a soft clink. And now,
• 1:44:37
  Speaker 1: friend Starling, tell us what happened after you brought the
• 1:44:40
  Speaker 1: great stone marble into this lovely kitchen of yours. Starling
• 1:44:55
  Speaker 1: hopped closer to the great basin on the table, her
• 1:44:58
  Speaker 1: head tilted thoughtfully to one side. A faint, bashful flutter
• 1:45:03
  Speaker 1: stirred her wings again, but this time it was accompanied
• 1:45:07
  Speaker 1: by a gentle gleam of culinary pride in her dark eyes. Well,
• 1:45:13
  Speaker 1: she began, speaking in a low, conspiratorial whisper that drew
• 1:45:18
  Speaker 1: Moss and Thistle forward in their seats. After I carried
• 1:45:22
  Speaker 1: the basin up the ladder and set it upon this table,
• 1:45:26
  Speaker 1: I untied the linen cloth to inspect what kind of
• 1:45:29
  Speaker 1: sweet treat had been prepared. I saw the magnificent purple
• 1:45:33
  Speaker 1: dome of the pudding, studded with wild blackberries, bias berries,
• 1:45:39
  Speaker 1: and dark rowan berries, resting in its bed of oats
• 1:45:43
  Speaker 1: and ground bari. She paused, hopping from one foot to
• 1:45:48
  Speaker 1: the other in delicate agitation. It was a noble pudding, truly.
• 1:45:53
  Speaker 1: It showed the patient labor of whoever had mixed the
• 1:45:56
  Speaker 1: batter and steamed the grain. But as I leaned close
• 1:46:04
  Speaker 1: to admire it, I noticed that the wild blackberries used
• 1:46:08
  Speaker 1: in the filling must have been gathered late in the season,
• 1:46:12
  Speaker 1: after the first frost had visited the shaded northern hollows
• 1:46:16
  Speaker 1: of the woods. You know how those late berries can be, Thistle.
• 1:46:21
  Speaker 1: They hold a dark, deep color, but their juice carries
• 1:46:25
  Speaker 1: a shark, biting tartness that can pinch the corners of
• 1:46:29
  Speaker 1: the mouth if they are not softened by something rich
• 1:46:32
  Speaker 1: and soothing. Thistle nodded in thoughtful agreement, rubbing his chin
• 1:46:38
  Speaker 1: with a claw. Indeed, that is very true. Old Mrs.
• 1:46:43
  Speaker 1: Bramble and the baking committee gathered those berries only two
• 1:46:47
  Speaker 1: days ago from the northern slope of Bramble Hollow. The
• 1:46:51
  Speaker 1: frost had touched the bushes early this season, and though
• 1:46:54
  Speaker 1: the berries were plump, they had a tart, brisk edge
• 1:46:58
  Speaker 1: that we hoped would mellow during the steaming process. Precisely,
• 1:47:03
  Speaker 1: Starling chirped, nodding her head vigorously. And when I touched
• 1:47:12
  Speaker 1: a tiny drop of the dark juice with the tip
• 1:47:15
  Speaker 1: of my claw and tasted it, I realized that while
• 1:47:18
  Speaker 1: the pudding was hearty and wholesome, it lacked the round,
• 1:47:23
  Speaker 1: golden sweetness that an autumn feast requires. It needed something
• 1:47:28
  Speaker 1: to embrace the tart berries and tuck them into bed,
• 1:47:31
  Speaker 1: so to speak. And so, thinking the pudding had no
• 1:47:35
  Speaker 1: claimant and belonged to anyone who cared to tend it,
• 1:47:40
  Speaker 1: I decided to consult the secret methods of my grandmother,
• 1:47:44
  Speaker 1: who was known throughout the southern meadows for her festive confections.
• 1:47:49
  Speaker 1: Moss leaned forward, his ears perking up with great curiosity.
• 1:47:54
  Speaker 1: And what was her secret method, Starling? What did your
• 1:47:58
  Speaker 1: grandmother teach you to do when the wild autumn fruit
• 1:48:01
  Speaker 1: proved too sharp for the tongue? Starling's eyes sparkled with
• 1:48:06
  Speaker 1: quiet delight. She taught me the art of the golden bath.
• 1:48:11
  Speaker 1: The bird answered proudly. Thank. Thanked. A gentleman. infusion of
• 1:48:20
  Speaker 1: wildflower honey and aromatic spices warmed so slowly that the
• 1:48:26
  Speaker 1: floral notes of the summer blossoms never fade, but rather
• 1:48:31
  Speaker 1: seep deep into the heart of the steamed grain. Starling
• 1:48:44
  Speaker 1: moved gracefully across the table, gesturing toward the high shelf
• 1:48:49
  Speaker 1: above her starred hearth where three earthenware crocks were lined
• 1:48:54
  Speaker 1: up in a neat row. In the middle crock, she
• 1:48:57
  Speaker 1: explained in a reverent, hushed voice, I keep the wild
• 1:49:02
  Speaker 1: clover honey that I gathered from the south meadow during
• 1:49:05
  Speaker 1: the very last week of the warm sun. just before
• 1:49:09
  Speaker 1: the bumblebees tucked themselves away into their mossy burrows for
• 1:49:13
  Speaker 1: the cold months. It is pale gold, translucent as liquid amber,
• 1:49:19
  Speaker 1: and holds the delicate perfume of white clover and wild thyme.
• 1:49:24
  Speaker 1: It has none of the heavy bitterness of late heather honey.
• 1:49:28
  Speaker 1: It is pure, gentle sweetness. She hopped back to the
• 1:49:33
  Speaker 1: great stoneware basin, resting one wing lightly against its smooth,
• 1:49:39
  Speaker 1: cool rim. I took four generous wooden spoonfuls of that
• 1:49:43
  Speaker 1: clover honey and placed them in a small copper cell span.
• 1:49:51
  Speaker 1: To the honey, I added three bruised pods of wild
• 1:49:55
  Speaker 1: cardamoms that a traveling swallow brought me from the distant hills,
• 1:50:00
  Speaker 1: two thin curls of dried sweet orange peel from my
• 1:50:04
  Speaker 1: winter reserves, and a pinch of ground cinnamon bark that
• 1:50:07
  Speaker 1: I had pounded into fine dust with my smooth river stones.
• 1:50:12
  Speaker 1: I set the saucepan not over the open flame, which
• 1:50:16
  Speaker 1: would have scorched the delicate sugars, but upon the warm,
• 1:50:20
  Speaker 1: flat stones at the edge of the hearth. Moss listened
• 1:50:24
  Speaker 1: with rapt attention, his paws folded neatly in his lap,
• 1:50:29
  Speaker 1: picturing the golden syrup warming slowly in the firelight. And
• 1:50:33
  Speaker 1: did you pour it over the top while it was warm?
• 1:50:36
  Speaker 1: the mouse asked softly. I did, Starling whispered, her voice
• 1:50:42
  Speaker 1: full of culinary reverence. I took a slender skewer carved
• 1:50:46
  Speaker 1: from dried willow wood and made twelve tiny, invisible piercings
• 1:50:52
  Speaker 1: across the crown of the pudding, reaching down into the
• 1:50:55
  Speaker 1: core where their darkest blackberries lay hidden. Drop by drop,
• 1:51:05
  Speaker 1: using a polished hazelwood spoon, I basted the crown with
• 1:51:09
  Speaker 1: the warm, spiced clover honey. As the syrup sank into
• 1:51:14
  Speaker 1: the crumb, it carried the spices and the sweet clover
• 1:51:18
  Speaker 1: fragrance into every fold of the steamed grain. Then, to
• 1:51:23
  Speaker 1: ensure the honey did not simply fit in pools, I
• 1:51:26
  Speaker 1: set the entire basin over a wide pot of simmering
• 1:51:30
  Speaker 1: water on the hearth. keeping the linen cover damp with
• 1:51:34
  Speaker 1: elderberry water. For three full hours, the pudding has been
• 1:51:38
  Speaker 1: gently absorbing that golden elixir, softening its tart edges and
• 1:51:43
  Speaker 1: transforming into something far beyond ordinary woodland porridge. Thistle inhaled deeply,
• 1:51:51
  Speaker 1: his dark eyes shining with anticipation. The fragrance that fills
• 1:51:56
  Speaker 1: this room now is proof enough of your skill, starlings.
• 1:52:00
  Speaker 1: Even through the linen cloth, the perfume of sweet honey,
• 1:52:04
  Speaker 1: warm cinnamon, and dark berries is unmistakable. Makes the mouth
• 1:52:13
  Speaker 1: water and warms the spirit before a single bite is taken.
• 1:52:18
  Speaker 1: Would you like to see it? Starling asked, her head
• 1:52:22
  Speaker 1: tilted with hopeful eagerness. Would you like to see how
• 1:52:25
  Speaker 1: the pudding looks beneath its blanket? We would be honored.
• 1:52:29
  Speaker 1: Moss replied softly, leaning forward with a gentle, appreciative smile.
• 1:52:45
  Speaker 1: With slow, deliberate care, Starling took the corners of the
• 1:52:50
  Speaker 1: embroidered linen cloth in her beak and drew it gently
• 1:52:54
  Speaker 1: back from the rim of the great stoneware basin. As
• 1:52:57
  Speaker 1: the cloth was lifted, A soft, billowing cloud of warm,
• 1:53:02
  Speaker 1: fragrant steam rose into the candlelit room, curling lazily toward
• 1:53:07
  Speaker 1: the cedar rafters like a wreath of sweet autumn incense.
• 1:53:11
  Speaker 1: The scent that unfolded was nothing short of miraculous. It
• 1:53:15
  Speaker 1: carried the earthy, robust foundation of steamed whole oats and
• 1:53:20
  Speaker 1: toasted barley, the deep, dark tang of wild blackberries and
• 1:53:25
  Speaker 1: wild currants, and wrapped around it all was the smooth,
• 1:53:29
  Speaker 1: velvety warmth of golden clover honey, kissed by the faint,
• 1:53:34
  Speaker 1: comforting whisper of cinnamon and sweet orange peel. Moss and
• 1:53:39
  Speaker 1: Thistle sat completely motionless for several moments, their eyes wide
• 1:53:43
  Speaker 1: as they gazed upon the transformed centerpiece. The pudding was
• 1:53:47
  Speaker 1: no longer a simple, rustic mound of dark purple grain.
• 1:53:56
  Speaker 1: Under the gentle bathing of the honey syrup and the
• 1:53:59
  Speaker 1: patient's theme of Starling's hearth, it had become a magnificent,
• 1:54:05
  Speaker 1: glistening dome. Its crust shone with a rich, glossy sheen
• 1:54:10
  Speaker 1: like a freshly polished chestnut lying in the autumn sun,
• 1:54:14
  Speaker 1: where the dark purple blackberries broke through the tender crust.
• 1:54:18
  Speaker 1: They were suspended in glistening pools of ruby-tinted glaze. that
• 1:54:23
  Speaker 1: caught the flickering candlelight and sparkled like tiny jewels. Bless
• 1:54:29
  Speaker 1: my whiskers, Moss murmured in an odd whisper, his nose
• 1:54:33
  Speaker 1: quivering in utter delight. I have never in all my
• 1:54:37
  Speaker 1: seasons in Wumblewood seen a pudding so magnificent. It looks
• 1:54:42
  Speaker 1: like something prepared for a woodland monarch, yet it carries
• 1:54:46
  Speaker 1: all the cozy comfort of our humble forest home. It
• 1:54:50
  Speaker 1: is a triumph. Thistle pronounced with solemn joy, nodding his
• 1:54:55
  Speaker 1: head slowly as he admired the glistening crown. The baking
• 1:55:03
  Speaker 1: committee worked with great devotion this morning, but your grandmother's secret, Starling,
• 1:55:10
  Speaker 1: has turned their honest labor into an absolute masterpiece. There
• 1:55:14
  Speaker 1: is not a single creature in the putting club who
• 1:55:17
  Speaker 1: will not rejoice when this bowl is carried through the
• 1:55:21
  Speaker 1: door of the great hollow oak. Starling flapped her wings
• 1:55:25
  Speaker 1: in delight, a bright trill of joy escaping her throat.
• 1:55:29
  Speaker 1: She hopped to a cedar shelf and retrieved a small
• 1:55:32
  Speaker 1: tasting spoon carved from smooth hazelwood, its bowl no larger
• 1:55:37
  Speaker 1: than a hazelnut shell. Carefully, She dipped the tip of
• 1:55:42
  Speaker 1: the spoon into the glistening glaze where a pool of
• 1:55:45
  Speaker 1: honey and dark blackberry juice had gathered along the curved
• 1:55:50
  Speaker 1: rim of the basin. She offered the spoon first to Moss,
• 1:55:54
  Speaker 1: who leaned forward and took the tiny drop upon his tongue.
• 1:55:58
  Speaker 1: The little mouse closed his eyes at once, his whiskers
• 1:56:02
  Speaker 1: trembling with sheer happiness. The flavor was a symphony of
• 1:56:07
  Speaker 1: autumn perfection. First came the bright, wild tang of the
• 1:56:16
  Speaker 1: mountain berries, fresh and lively. Then came the soothing, mellow
• 1:56:21
  Speaker 1: blanket of clover honey, washing away every trace of sharpness.
• 1:56:26
  Speaker 1: And finally, a warm, lingering finish of cinnamon and aromatic
• 1:56:32
  Speaker 1: orange that seemed to settle right down into his toes. Oh, Starling,
• 1:56:37
  Speaker 1: Moss sighed softly. opening his eyes which were now moist
• 1:56:41
  Speaker 1: with pure contentment. It is exquisite. It tastes of autumn
• 1:56:46
  Speaker 1: sunshine and fireside peace. Starling then dipped the spoon once
• 1:56:52
  Speaker 1: more and offered a taste to thistle. The hedgehog took
• 1:56:56
  Speaker 1: the drop with great dignity, letting the flavors unfold slowly
• 1:57:01
  Speaker 1: upon his palate. A wide, peaceful smile spread across his
• 1:57:06
  Speaker 1: face and crinkling the soft fur around his cheeks. Superb,
• 1:57:11
  Speaker 1: he whispered, utterly superb. You have not stolen our pudding. Starling,
• 1:57:18
  Speaker 1: you have rescued it from ordinary tartness and crowned it
• 1:57:22
  Speaker 1: with glory. You must put on your warm feather cloak
• 1:57:29
  Speaker 1: at once. for you are coming back to the great
• 1:57:32
  Speaker 1: hollow oak with us not as an offender, but as
• 1:57:36
  Speaker 1: our guest of honor, Starling's heart swelled with gratitude. All
• 1:57:41
  Speaker 1: her fear and sorrow were swept away like dry leaves
• 1:57:45
  Speaker 1: in a gentle breeze, replaced by the profound comforting knowledge
• 1:57:49
  Speaker 1: that she was among true friends who loved and valued her. Together,
• 1:57:54
  Speaker 1: the three companions began to make ready for the homeward
• 1:57:58
  Speaker 1: journey across the dark, mossy floor of Wumblewood. Transporting a
• 1:58:11
  Speaker 1: great stoneware basin filled to the brim with war honey-glazed
• 1:58:15
  Speaker 1: berry pudding through an ancient forest at twilight was a
• 1:58:19
  Speaker 1: task that called for both patience and ingenuity the bowl
• 1:58:23
  Speaker 1: was heavy. Having been turned on a potter's wheel from
• 1:58:26
  Speaker 1: thick river clay, and its sides retained a deep, comforting
• 1:58:30
  Speaker 1: warmth from the hours it had spent resting over Starling's
• 1:58:33
  Speaker 1: gentle hearth. It was far too cumbersome for a small
• 1:58:37
  Speaker 1: bird to carry through the air, and it was much
• 1:58:40
  Speaker 1: too wide for a mouse or a hedgehog to balance
• 1:58:43
  Speaker 1: in their arms while navigating the twisted roots and damp
• 1:58:47
  Speaker 1: hollows of the woodland floor. Starling, however, was a creature
• 1:58:51
  Speaker 1: of practical wisdom, and her pantry was filled with treasures
• 1:58:56
  Speaker 1: suited for every forest occasion. From beneath a curtain of
• 1:59:00
  Speaker 1: woven rush matting in the corner of her storehouse, the
• 1:59:03
  Speaker 1: feathered hostess brought forth a low, sturdy sled. It had
• 1:59:12
  Speaker 1: been crafted by an old carpenter of old from seasoned
• 1:59:15
  Speaker 1: ash wood. with runners fashioned from smooth birch bark that
• 1:59:20
  Speaker 1: had been polished with beeswax until they slid over damp
• 1:59:24
  Speaker 1: moss as smoothly as a fallen leaf across still water.
• 1:59:28
  Speaker 1: The bed of the sled was lined with a thick
• 1:59:31
  Speaker 1: nest of carted sheep's wool, clean and white, which an
• 1:59:35
  Speaker 1: elder ewe from the pasture edge had gifted during the
• 1:59:38
  Speaker 1: spring shearing. Moss carefully inspected the little vehicle, pressing his
• 1:59:44
  Speaker 1: paws into the woolly bed to test its softness. This
• 1:59:48
  Speaker 1: will do splendidly, Moss declared with a decisive nod of
• 1:59:53
  Speaker 1: his whiskers. The wool will cradle the stoneware like a
• 1:59:57
  Speaker 1: nest of down, protecting the pudding from any jolts or jostles,
• 2:00:02
  Speaker 1: and the runners will glide over the pine needles with
• 2:00:06
  Speaker 1: scarcely a whisper. Together, using their combined strength and moving
• 2:00:11
  Speaker 1: with great deliberation, The three companions lifted the steaming basin
• 2:00:17
  Speaker 1: from the cedar table. Stalling braced the base with her
• 2:00:24
  Speaker 1: sturdy feet and the curve of her wing, while Thistle
• 2:00:28
  Speaker 1: and Moss gripped the wide stoneware handles with steady paws.
• 2:00:33
  Speaker 1: They lowered the bowl into the center of the fleece nest,
• 2:00:36
  Speaker 1: where it sank down into the wool, perfectly snug and level.
• 2:00:41
  Speaker 1: Starling then produced a heavy square of checkered flannel, which
• 2:00:46
  Speaker 1: she draped carefully over the embroidered linen cloth, tucking the
• 2:00:50
  Speaker 1: edges beneath the rim of the bowl, and securing the
• 2:00:53
  Speaker 1: entire bundle with two lengths of braided willow twine. To
• 2:00:58
  Speaker 1: finish their preparations, Starling tied a soft woolen scarf of
• 2:01:03
  Speaker 1: cranberry-colored yarn around her neck, while Thistle trimmed the wick
• 2:01:08
  Speaker 1: of his tin lantern. ensuring its candle would cast a clear,
• 2:01:12
  Speaker 1: steady beam of warm amber light. When the birchbark door
• 2:01:27
  Speaker 1: of Starling's pantry swung open, the cool, still air of
• 2:01:32
  Speaker 1: the autumn evening greeted them like a quiet blessing. Twilight
• 2:01:37
  Speaker 1: had settled completely over Wumblewood, painting the canopy of oaks, beeches,
• 2:01:43
  Speaker 1: and ancient rowans in shades of deep indigo, slate, and
• 2:01:48
  Speaker 1: shadowy plum. A gentle hush had fallen upon the woods,
• 2:01:52
  Speaker 1: that sacred hour when the daytime creatures settle into their
• 2:01:56
  Speaker 1: hollows and the nighttime folk begin to stir from their dreams.
• 2:02:01
  Speaker 1: The scent in the forest was crisp and earthy, carrying
• 2:02:05
  Speaker 1: the fragrance of damp soil, decaying leaves, fallen acorns, and
• 2:02:10
  Speaker 1: the faint, sweet perfume of wood smoke drifting from distant chimneys.
• 2:02:15
  Speaker 1: Thistle took his place at the head of the little procession.
• 2:02:19
  Speaker 1: In his left paw, he held his knobby walking stick,
• 2:02:24
  Speaker 1: carved from a sturdy branch of mountain ash, and in
• 2:02:27
  Speaker 1: his right, he lifted the lantern high. Its pierced tin
• 2:02:36
  Speaker 1: sides threw speckled circles of golden light onto the forest floor,
• 2:02:41
  Speaker 1: illuminating the carpet of emerald moss that cushioned the winding pathway.
• 2:02:48
  Speaker 1: Moss took hold of the braided hemptail lines that were
• 2:02:51
  Speaker 1: attached to the ashwood sled. He leaned his small, woolen-clad
• 2:02:56
  Speaker 1: shoulders into the harness. finding the weight surprisingly manageable as
• 2:03:01
  Speaker 1: the polished runner slid smoothly over the damp, cool ground.
• 2:03:06
  Speaker 1: Keep a steady, unhurried pace, Moss, Thistle advised softly, his
• 2:03:12
  Speaker 1: voice low and rhythmic in the quiet woods. There is
• 2:03:16
  Speaker 1: no prize for haste upon a woodland path. Slow steps
• 2:03:20
  Speaker 1: are safe steps, and the pudding deserves a gentle voyage.
• 2:03:25
  Speaker 1: Starling fluttered up to a low hanging branch of a
• 2:03:28
  Speaker 1: silver birch just above their heads, her dark wings rustling
• 2:03:32
  Speaker 1: with a soft, feathery whisper. I shall serve as your
• 2:03:37
  Speaker 1: eyes in the branches, she called down softly. From here
• 2:03:41
  Speaker 1: I can see where the roots rise high and where
• 2:03:44
  Speaker 1: the ground lies soft and level. When you approach the
• 2:03:52
  Speaker 1: crossing at the hazel thicket, I will guide you along
• 2:03:55
  Speaker 1: the smoother bank, and so the little expedition moved out
• 2:03:59
  Speaker 1: into the heart of the forest. The gentle scraping of
• 2:04:03
  Speaker 1: the sled runners against the moss was no louder than
• 2:04:06
  Speaker 1: the sigh of an evening breeze through dry fern fronds.
• 2:04:10
  Speaker 1: Behind them, Starling's hawthorn tree receded into the shadows, its
• 2:04:15
  Speaker 1: round doorway glowing softly like a tiny lantern left behind
• 2:04:19
  Speaker 1: in the gloaming. Overhead, Between the darkening arches of the
• 2:04:24
  Speaker 1: oak limbs, the first evening star appeared, sharp and clear
• 2:04:29
  Speaker 1: and pale, watching over their peaceful journey through the great
• 2:04:33
  Speaker 1: quiet wood. As they wound their way deeper into the
• 2:04:47
  Speaker 1: familiar groves of Wumblewood, The soft clatter of their travels
• 2:04:51
  Speaker 1: did not go unnoticed by their neighbors. The forest was
• 2:04:56
  Speaker 1: never truly empty, but rather filled with cozy homes tucked
• 2:05:01
  Speaker 1: away beneath mossy roots, inside hollow stumps, and within the
• 2:05:06
  Speaker 1: warm embrace of decaying logs. The fragrance that drifted from
• 2:05:11
  Speaker 1: the covered sled, that irresistible aroma of warm blackberries, steamed oats,
• 2:05:17
  Speaker 1: and spiced clover honey floated through the ferns like an invitation,
• 2:05:22
  Speaker 1: awakening curious noses wherever it passed. At the edge of
• 2:05:26
  Speaker 1: the hazel grove, a tiny round door set into the
• 2:05:30
  Speaker 1: base of a moss-grown elder stump swung open with a
• 2:05:34
  Speaker 1: fink creak. Hazel the Dormouse peered out. her round ears
• 2:05:39
  Speaker 1: twitching and her long, whiskered nose sniffing the twilight air
• 2:05:44
  Speaker 1: with obvious pleasure. She was dressed in her evening nightcap
• 2:05:49
  Speaker 1: of blue flannel, and around her shoulders she wore a
• 2:05:53
  Speaker 1: tiny knitted shawl. Gively, thinking, and with my delighted listens,
• 2:06:04
  Speaker 1: but those are only controls, firstly. The ten, he's process, unverb,
• 2:06:12
  Speaker 1: I cane, changes for an amount of hard. I hope
• 2:06:16
  Speaker 1: you are building less amount of the remation of dry one.
• 2:06:20
  Speaker 1: For thee, yes, I tendered all of the roam of
• 2:06:23
  Speaker 1: your full eye. Think for the opens first can. Thinking, givey,
• 2:06:30
  Speaker 1: mean you want to tell little fine. One thing, been
• 2:06:34
  Speaker 1: by my dash, dash, alphalfeast ten. When there is a
• 2:06:40
  Speaker 1: minutes of gloat-throth was to sismakne cities, then quook by
• 2:06:46
  Speaker 1: shahol paste-myth, suviently prepared. When you're not finish, over-putting the liff.
• 2:06:54
  Speaker 1: Be in just one moment, friends. She darted back inside
• 2:06:59
  Speaker 1: her home and returned an instant later carrying a small
• 2:07:03
  Speaker 1: pouch made of folded birch bark. Take these roasted sunflower seeds.
• 2:07:09
  Speaker 1: They are still warm from my oven. Fine ful will
• 2:07:17
  Speaker 1: give you strength as you pull the sled across the hollow.
• 2:07:21
  Speaker 1: Moss thanked her warmly, slipping the little pouch into the
• 2:07:24
  Speaker 1: pocket of his woolen waistcoat. Just then, a rustle sounded
• 2:07:29
  Speaker 1: in the hazel boughs above and Pip the Red Squirrel
• 2:07:33
  Speaker 1: scampered down the trunk with agile grace. His bushy tail
• 2:07:37
  Speaker 1: curled neatly over his back. I heard the runners upon
• 2:07:40
  Speaker 1: the moss. Pip chattered softly, his dark eyes bright with
• 2:07:45
  Speaker 1: helpful enthusiasm. The path ahead through the fern valley has
• 2:07:49
  Speaker 1: gathered many fallen twigs from the afternoon breeze. Give me
• 2:07:54
  Speaker 1: a moment, and I shall run before you to sweep
• 2:07:57
  Speaker 1: the path clear so your runners do not catch. True
• 2:08:01
  Speaker 1: to his word, the nimble squirrel bounded ahead along the
• 2:08:04
  Speaker 1: woodland track, flicking dry twigs and loose hazelnut shells away
• 2:08:09
  Speaker 1: with his front paws, clearing a wide, smooth highway through
• 2:08:14
  Speaker 1: the moss. It was the way of Wumblewood. Whenever one
• 2:08:22
  Speaker 1: creature had a burden to carry, other paws and wings
• 2:08:26
  Speaker 1: appeared from the shadows, ready to lighten the load with
• 2:08:30
  Speaker 1: cheerful goodwill and quiet affection. With Pip clearing the way
• 2:08:45
  Speaker 1: and Starling guiding from the lower boughs, the sled glided
• 2:08:49
  Speaker 1: effortlessly down the gentle incline that led toward Pebble Ford. Here,
• 2:08:55
  Speaker 1: a shallow woodland brook crossed the path, its clear water
• 2:09:00
  Speaker 1: flowing quietly over a bed of rounded, colorful stones that
• 2:09:04
  Speaker 1: had been polished smooth by centuries of gentle currents. The
• 2:09:09
  Speaker 1: stream spoke in a soft, bubbling language, singing a bedtime
• 2:09:14
  Speaker 1: song from the ferns that leaned over its banks, their
• 2:09:17
  Speaker 1: fronds glistening with evening dew. Thistle paused at the water's edge,
• 2:09:23
  Speaker 1: resting his paws upon his walking stick and surveying the
• 2:09:27
  Speaker 1: crossing with care. The water was not deep, barely covering
• 2:09:32
  Speaker 1: the tops of his paws, but the stones were slick
• 2:09:35
  Speaker 1: with damp moss, and the sled could not simply be
• 2:09:39
  Speaker 1: dragged through the current without soaking the sheep's wool fleece
• 2:09:43
  Speaker 1: that cradle-trecious basin. We must carry the sled across between us,
• 2:09:49
  Speaker 1: Thistle murmured, turning to Moss. We will stuck upon the
• 2:09:57
  Speaker 1: flat stones, Taking one careful pace at a time. Before
• 2:10:02
  Speaker 1: Moss could answer, A heavy, deliberate rustling Parted the tall
• 2:10:07
  Speaker 1: bracken fronds on the opposite bank. Out into the lantern
• 2:10:11
  Speaker 1: light Stepped Bramble, the badger, his broad, striped face calm
• 2:10:17
  Speaker 1: and benevolent. Bramble wore a stout waistcoat of brown corduroy,
• 2:10:22
  Speaker 1: and his heavy spectacles rusted on a cord around his neck.
• 2:10:26
  Speaker 1: He was out for his customary evening constitutional, taking the
• 2:10:31
  Speaker 1: air before settling down to his supper of roasted parsnips
• 2:10:35
  Speaker 1: and dandelion tea. Well now, well now, Bramble rumbled in
• 2:10:39
  Speaker 1: his deep, gravelly voice, which was as comforting and steady
• 2:10:44
  Speaker 1: as the foundation of an ancient hill. What have we
• 2:10:48
  Speaker 1: here upon the moss? A hedgehog, a mouse, and a
• 2:10:52
  Speaker 1: bird traveling with a covered sled at nightfall. And if
• 2:10:59
  Speaker 1: my old nose does not deceive me, that is the
• 2:11:03
  Speaker 1: unmistakable perfume of the Pudding Club's autumn centerpiece. Good evening,
• 2:11:08
  Speaker 1: friend Bramble. Moss called across the brook with a cheerful
• 2:11:12
  Speaker 1: wave of his paw. We have the pudding safe and sound,
• 2:11:16
  Speaker 1: but we were just considering how best to transport it
• 2:11:20
  Speaker 1: across the ford without wetting the fleece. Bramble let out
• 2:11:24
  Speaker 1: a hearty, rumbling chuckle that set the dry reeds trembling.
• 2:11:29
  Speaker 1: Say no more, little brother. What are old badgers for,
• 2:11:33
  Speaker 1: if not for heavy lifting? With slow, confident strides, the
• 2:11:38
  Speaker 1: great badger waded into the brook, his thick leather boots
• 2:11:43
  Speaker 1: splashing gently in the shallow water. He crossed to their
• 2:11:47
  Speaker 1: side in four easy steps, knelt down upon the moss,
• 2:11:51
  Speaker 1: and placed his broad, powerful paws beneath the runners of
• 2:11:55
  Speaker 1: the ashwood sled. With an effortless lift, he raised the
• 2:12:00
  Speaker 1: entire sled, basin, wool, and all, cridling it against his
• 2:12:06
  Speaker 1: chest as securely as a mother holding a sleeping infant.
• 2:12:14
  Speaker 1: There now Bramble murmured, stepping carefully across the polished stones
• 2:12:19
  Speaker 1: of the ford and depositing the sled gently upon the dry,
• 2:12:24
  Speaker 1: grassy bank on the other side. Not a jolt, not
• 2:12:29
  Speaker 1: a drop spilled, and the fleece is as dry as
• 2:12:32
  Speaker 1: summer straw. Toss, Thistle, and Pip crossed the ford upon
• 2:12:47
  Speaker 1: the broad, dry stepping stones, while Starling flew across in
• 2:12:52
  Speaker 1: a single graceful swoop. settling upon Bramble's broad shoulder with
• 2:12:57
  Speaker 1: a friendly flutter of her wings. Thank you, Bramble, Starling said,
• 2:13:02
  Speaker 1: dipping her head in polite gratitude. You have saved us
• 2:13:07
  Speaker 1: a great deal of anxiety. Your paws are as gentle
• 2:13:11
  Speaker 1: as they are strong. Bramble adjusted his spectacles and smiled
• 2:13:15
  Speaker 1: warmly down at the little bird. It is my pleasure, Starling.
• 2:13:20
  Speaker 1: When the welfare of the autumn feast is at stake,
• 2:13:24
  Speaker 1: Every creature in the wood has a duty to lend
• 2:13:26
  Speaker 1: a paw, and seeing as my evening stroll takes me
• 2:13:30
  Speaker 1: in the direction of the great hollow oak, I shall
• 2:13:34
  Speaker 1: walk beside you and help with the pulling. With Bramble
• 2:13:37
  Speaker 1: adding his steady strength to the journey, the remainder of
• 2:13:41
  Speaker 1: the trek became an unhurried, delightful promenade through the moonlit groves.
• 2:13:51
  Speaker 1: The badger took one of the toe lines in his
• 2:13:54
  Speaker 1: large paw, while Moss held the other, and together they
• 2:13:58
  Speaker 1: pulled the sled up the gentle slope of Fern Ridge.
• 2:14:02
  Speaker 1: The ground here was carpeted with thick, spongy peat and
• 2:14:07
  Speaker 1: dense clumps of haircut moss, which glowed with a faint,
• 2:14:11
  Speaker 1: velvet green beneath the light of Thistle's lantern. The crisp
• 2:14:16
  Speaker 1: evening air felt wonderful against their fur and feathers. invigorating
• 2:14:21
  Speaker 1: their spirits after the quiet labor of the trail. They
• 2:14:26
  Speaker 1: walked in comfortable companionship, sharing quiet observations about the turning
• 2:14:31
  Speaker 1: of the foliage, the thickness of the autumn acorn harvest,
• 2:14:36
  Speaker 1: and the pleasant coolness of the coming nights. There was
• 2:14:39
  Speaker 1: no need for loud talk. The quiet cadence of their
• 2:14:43
  Speaker 1: footsteps and the rhythmic sliding of the sled runners formed
• 2:14:47
  Speaker 1: a peaceful soundtrack to the evening. As they reached the
• 2:14:55
  Speaker 1: crest of Fern Ridge, the trees parted to reveal the wide,
• 2:15:00
  Speaker 1: sheltered hollow where the great hollow oak had stood for
• 2:15:03
  Speaker 1: uncounted centuries. The sight brought an involuntary murmur of admiration
• 2:15:09
  Speaker 1: from all of them. The ancient oak was enormous, its
• 2:15:13
  Speaker 1: gnarled trunk wider than twenty badgers standing paw to paw,
• 2:15:18
  Speaker 1: its massive roots anchoring it deep into the heart of Wumblewood.
• 2:15:23
  Speaker 1: From every arched knothole and round wooden window carved into
• 2:15:27
  Speaker 1: its bark, warm, golden candlelight poured out into the dusk,
• 2:15:32
  Speaker 1: painting glowing pools of light upon the surrounding grass. A
• 2:15:37
  Speaker 1: gentle wisp of fragrant blue wood smoke curled from the
• 2:15:40
  Speaker 1: chimney pipe that extended through the high branches, carrying the
• 2:15:45
  Speaker 1: scent of burning applewood and dried peat. and through the
• 2:15:54
  Speaker 1: open archway of the route entrance, framed by garlands of
• 2:15:58
  Speaker 1: scarlet rowan berries and yellow birch leaves, came the muffled,
• 2:16:03
  Speaker 1: cheerful sound of woodland voices, the clinking of teacups, the
• 2:16:08
  Speaker 1: scrape of wooden benches, and the soft, melodic humming of
• 2:16:13
  Speaker 1: the pudding club choir practicing their autumn anthems. We are home,
• 2:16:18
  Speaker 1: Moss whispered. his heart swelling with a deep, peaceful joy,
• 2:16:24
  Speaker 1: we have brought the pudding home, and the feast may
• 2:16:27
  Speaker 1: now begin. Thistle lifted his lantern high, signaling their approach
• 2:16:33
  Speaker 1: to the friends waiting inside, and together, the little company
• 2:16:38
  Speaker 1: walked down the gentle slope toward the welcoming warmth of
• 2:16:41
  Speaker 1: the great hollow oak. the arched threshold of the great
• 2:16:54
  Speaker 1: hollow oak stood open to the cool autumn twilight, flanked
• 2:16:58
  Speaker 1: by two carved cedar posts draped in fragrant swags of
• 2:17:02
  Speaker 1: dried lavender, sweet marjoram, and scarlet rowan berries. When bramble, moss,
• 2:17:09
  Speaker 1: and thistle guided the ash, wood slid through the doorway,
• 2:17:13
  Speaker 1: with starling perched proudly upon the badger's broad shoulder. the
• 2:17:18
  Speaker 1: hum of conversation inside the great chamber suddenly softened into
• 2:17:23
  Speaker 1: an expectant hush. Inside, the heart of the ancient tree
• 2:17:27
  Speaker 1: was as bright and warm as midday sunshine, illuminated by
• 2:17:32
  Speaker 1: dozens of little beeswax tapers set into polished walnut sconces
• 2:17:36
  Speaker 1: along the fluted walls, and by the magnificent hearth of river,
• 2:17:41
  Speaker 1: stone where seasoned beech logs burned with a clear, Steady,
• 2:17:46
  Speaker 1: amber flame. The scent of seasoned wood, clean sheep's wool,
• 2:17:51
  Speaker 1: dried herbs, and old polished oak wood created an atmosphere
• 2:17:55
  Speaker 1: of absolute security and peace. The room was filled with
• 2:18:04
  Speaker 1: the familiar, beloved faces of the pudding club. all gathered
• 2:18:09
  Speaker 1: together for this cherished annual tradition. There was Mrs. Fieldmouse
• 2:18:14
  Speaker 1: in her Sunday pinafore of checked calico, smoothing her whiskers
• 2:18:18
  Speaker 1: as she adjusted the woolen cushions upon the benches. old Mr. Mole,
• 2:18:24
  Speaker 1: resting his velvety paws upon his willow cane near the fire,
• 2:18:28
  Speaker 1: his round spectacles reflecting the cheerful firelight with a warm
• 2:18:33
  Speaker 1: amber glint. Three young hedgehog cousins tucked snugly into a
• 2:18:38
  Speaker 1: side alcove, whispering among themselves with suppressed merriment, and a
• 2:18:44
  Speaker 1: whole family of bankfuls, who had spent that afternoon laying
• 2:18:48
  Speaker 1: out the long banquet table with meticulous care, For two
• 2:18:53
  Speaker 1: hours the club had been waiting with affectionate concern, wondering
• 2:18:57
  Speaker 1: what had delayed their scots and whether the centerpiece of
• 2:19:01
  Speaker 1: their annual celebration had been lost to the cold woodland gloom. Look,
• 2:19:10
  Speaker 1: Pip the Red Squirrel called down from the cedar rafters,
• 2:19:14
  Speaker 1: flicking his bushy tail in sheer excitement as he bounded
• 2:19:18
  Speaker 1: down from limb to beam. They have returned. Moss and
• 2:19:22
  Speaker 1: Thistle have brought the sled, and Bramble is with them,
• 2:19:26
  Speaker 1: and look what rides upon the sheep's wool fleece in
• 2:19:29
  Speaker 1: the middle of the runners. A joyful chorus of welcoming chips,
• 2:19:34
  Speaker 1: soft squeaks, and friendly greetings broke out from every corner
• 2:19:38
  Speaker 1: of the hall. Mrs. Fieldmouse hurried forward, her apron strings
• 2:19:43
  Speaker 1: fluttering behind her, her paws clasped in deep relief. Oh!
• 2:19:49
  Speaker 1: Thank goodness, she cried softly, looking from moss to thistle
• 2:19:54
  Speaker 1: with motherly tenderness. We were beginning to fear that some
• 2:19:58
  Speaker 1: wandering hedgehog or forgetful squirrel had tumbled into a dry ditch,
• 2:20:03
  Speaker 1: or that the evening chill had overtaken you on the trail.
• 2:20:07
  Speaker 1: But where was the pudding? What happened upon the cooling
• 2:20:15
  Speaker 1: stone outside the kitchen door? Thistle stepped forward, setting his
• 2:20:20
  Speaker 1: tin lantern upon a low cedar bench and smoothing his
• 2:20:24
  Speaker 1: spines with an easy, dignified sweep of his paw. Friends
• 2:20:29
  Speaker 1: of Wumblewood, the hedgehog announced in his round, comforting voice
• 2:20:34
  Speaker 1: that carried easily to every corner of the hall, our
• 2:20:38
  Speaker 1: pudding was never lost. nor was it taken with ill intent.
• 2:20:43
  Speaker 1: It was merely borrowed by our neighbor Starling, who believed
• 2:20:47
  Speaker 1: in all innocence that it was a surplus crock left
• 2:20:51
  Speaker 1: out for the general foraging of the woods. And when
• 2:20:54
  Speaker 1: she discovered that the autumn blackberries were somewhat tart from
• 2:20:58
  Speaker 1: the early frost, she applied her late grandmother's secret recipe,
• 2:21:03
  Speaker 1: bathing the entire dome in wild clover honey and fragrant spices.
• 2:21:09
  Speaker 1: We have not merely recovered our dessert. We have brought
• 2:21:12
  Speaker 1: home a masterpiece of woodland baking. The collective murmur of
• 2:21:27
  Speaker 1: understanding and delightful laughter rippled through the hall, warming the
• 2:21:33
  Speaker 1: air like an extra log placed upon the hearth fire.
• 2:21:37
  Speaker 1: Not a single reproach was spoken, not a single brow
• 2:21:41
  Speaker 1: was furrowed in displeasure or annoyance. In Womblewood, the heart
• 2:21:47
  Speaker 1: was always weighed before the action, and a gentle intention
• 2:21:51
  Speaker 1: was met with open arms. Old Mr. Mole nodded his
• 2:21:56
  Speaker 1: gray head with profound satisfaction, his gravelly chuckle echoing against
• 2:22:01
  Speaker 1: the wooden walls like small pebbles tumbling in a brook. Well,
• 2:22:07
  Speaker 1: Said well, said the old mole murmured, tapping his cane
• 2:22:11
  Speaker 1: against the floorboards. A mistake made in kindness that ends
• 2:22:16
  Speaker 1: in honey is no mistake at all, but a blessing
• 2:22:19
  Speaker 1: in disguise. Welcome, Starling. Welcome to our hearth. Starling, who
• 2:22:26
  Speaker 1: had been holding herself somewhat stiffly upon Bramble's shoulder, felt
• 2:22:31
  Speaker 1: all the tension dissolve from her feathered frame like mist
• 2:22:35
  Speaker 1: before the morning sun. Her wings relaxed, and a soft
• 2:22:44
  Speaker 1: trill of relief escaped her beak. Mrs. Fieldmouse took her
• 2:22:48
  Speaker 1: gently by the wing and guided her down to the
• 2:22:52
  Speaker 1: seat of honor, a wide, comfortable armchair carved from soft
• 2:22:57
  Speaker 1: linden wood, lined with downy thistle fluff and positioned right
• 2:23:02
  Speaker 1: beside the glowing warmth of the hearthstones. Sit yourself down,
• 2:23:07
  Speaker 1: dear starling, Mrs. Fieldmouse insisted with maternal warmth, draping a
• 2:23:14
  Speaker 1: soft woolen shawl of moss-green yarn over the bird's shoulders.
• 2:23:19
  Speaker 1: You have tended our pudding with loving care, and tonight
• 2:23:23
  Speaker 1: you are our guest of honor. No one shall lift
• 2:23:26
  Speaker 1: a feather or a paw in labor except to enjoy
• 2:23:30
  Speaker 1: the feast. and celebrate our good fortune. Meanwhile, Bramble and
• 2:23:36
  Speaker 1: Thistle lifted the great stoneware basin from the ash, wood sled,
• 2:23:41
  Speaker 1: and carried it with solemn ceremony to the center of
• 2:23:45
  Speaker 1: the banquet table. The table itself was a marvel of
• 2:23:54
  Speaker 1: rustic woodland craft, fashioned from a massive split log of
• 2:23:58
  Speaker 1: silver birch that had been planed as smooth as polished
• 2:24:02
  Speaker 1: glass and rubbed with beeswax until it shone. Down the
• 2:24:06
  Speaker 1: center of the wood ran a garland of dried autumn leaves,
• 2:24:11
  Speaker 1: bronze oak twigs, and polished chestnut husks, interspersed with little
• 2:24:16
  Speaker 1: clay saucers holding roasted beech nuts, dried wild apples, and
• 2:24:22
  Speaker 1: toasted sunflower kernels. Moss stepped up onto a small footstool
• 2:24:27
  Speaker 1: beside the table, untying the willow twine ribbons with nimble,
• 2:24:31
  Speaker 1: steady paws. He folded back the checkered flannel cloth, and then,
• 2:24:37
  Speaker 1: with Starling watching from her fireside chair with bright, hopeful eyes,
• 2:24:43
  Speaker 1: he drew back the embroidered linen cover. A thick, billowing
• 2:24:47
  Speaker 1: plume of fragrant steam rolled out across the table, carrying
• 2:24:51
  Speaker 1: an aroma so extraordinarily rich, sweet, and comforting that every
• 2:24:58
  Speaker 1: creature in the room closed their eyes and drew in
• 2:25:01
  Speaker 1: a long, reverent breath of pure delight. The scent of
• 2:25:09
  Speaker 1: warm blackberries and tart mountain currants softened and mellowed by
• 2:25:14
  Speaker 1: the floral embrace of wild clover honey filled every nook
• 2:25:19
  Speaker 1: and cranny of the great oak. Beneath the honey lay
• 2:25:22
  Speaker 1: the warming notes of cinnamon bark and sweet orange peel,
• 2:25:27
  Speaker 1: mingling with the wholesome, earthy foundation of steamed barley and
• 2:25:32
  Speaker 1: toasted oats. It was the very essence of autumn comfort
• 2:25:36
  Speaker 1: captured in steam and presented to the hungry gatherer. By
• 2:25:50
  Speaker 1: the roots of the forest, whispered old Mr. Mole, leaning
• 2:25:54
  Speaker 1: forward over his cane, his whiskers trembling with intense appreciation.
• 2:26:00
  Speaker 1: I have smelled seventy autumn puddings in my long life
• 2:26:03
  Speaker 1: beneath the soil, but never have my nostrils met a
• 2:26:07
  Speaker 1: perfume so completely delightful. It smells of summer meadows preserved
• 2:26:13
  Speaker 1: for the winter hearth with all the sharpness of the
• 2:26:15
  Speaker 1: frost turned into gold. Thistle took up the broad silver
• 2:26:20
  Speaker 1: birch carving spade, an ancient utensil kept in the club's
• 2:26:24
  Speaker 1: velvet-lined chest for special occasions. The wood of the spade
• 2:26:29
  Speaker 1: was pale and satiny, with edges rounded so as not
• 2:26:33
  Speaker 1: to scratch the stoneware basin. With a steady, practiced paw,
• 2:26:39
  Speaker 1: he sank the curved blade into the glistening purple crown
• 2:26:43
  Speaker 1: of the pudding. The crust gave way with a soft,
• 2:26:46
  Speaker 1: yielding sigh, revealing a moist, tender crumb of dark purple
• 2:26:52
  Speaker 1: and deep russet. glistening with golden veins of honey that
• 2:26:56
  Speaker 1: had seeped deep into the grain during the hours of steaming.
• 2:27:04
  Speaker 1: He cut the first generous slice, a thick, steaming, wedge-laden
• 2:27:09
  Speaker 1: with plump, juicy berries and dripping with sweet, golden syrup,
• 2:27:15
  Speaker 1: and placed it upon a polished sycamore wood plate. Mrs.
• 2:27:20
  Speaker 1: Fieldmouse carried the plate straight to Starling, accompanied by a
• 2:27:24
  Speaker 1: small spoon carved from wild cherry wood. The first taste
• 2:27:29
  Speaker 1: belongs to the chef who perfected the recipe, Mrs. Fieldmouse
• 2:27:33
  Speaker 1: said with a gracious bow of her gray head. Starling
• 2:27:37
  Speaker 1: dipped her cherry wood spoon into the water. pudding and
• 2:27:41
  Speaker 1: lifted a small morsel to her beak. The entire hall
• 2:27:45
  Speaker 1: fell into absolute silence as every eye watched her, waiting
• 2:27:49
  Speaker 1: for the vernict. She closed her eyes, letting the warm,
• 2:27:54
  Speaker 1: rich confection rest upon her tongue while the flavors mingled
• 2:27:58
  Speaker 1: in harmony. A soft, trilling note of pure delight escaped
• 2:28:02
  Speaker 1: her throat, and she opened her eyes with a radiant
• 2:28:06
  Speaker 1: smile that banished every lingering shadow of doubt. The honey
• 2:28:10
  Speaker 1: has done its work, she whispered softly. The tartness of
• 2:28:19
  Speaker 1: the late harvest is completely smoothed away, leaving only pure,
• 2:28:24
  Speaker 1: sweet autumn joy. Then Thistle began to carve in earnest.
• 2:28:29
  Speaker 1: slicing portion after portion with generous fairness. Plates of smooth
• 2:28:34
  Speaker 1: sycamore wood were passed from paw to paw, traveling down
• 2:28:38
  Speaker 1: the length of the long birch table until every creature
• 2:28:42
  Speaker 1: had a steaming portion set before them. The young hedgehog
• 2:28:46
  Speaker 1: cousins received smaller wedges in shallow walnut bowls, while Bramble
• 2:28:51
  Speaker 1: received a hearty slice that filled his broad platter to
• 2:28:55
  Speaker 1: the edges. Even little Pip had a neat portion placed
• 2:28:59
  Speaker 1: upon a polished beech leaf. For the next several minutes,
• 2:29:03
  Speaker 1: no words were spoken in the great hall. There was
• 2:29:06
  Speaker 1: only the gentle scrape of wooden spoons against wooden plates,
• 2:29:11
  Speaker 1: the soft smacking of contented lips, and the collective sighs
• 2:29:15
  Speaker 1: of deep satisfaction that rose into the worn air. The
• 2:29:19
  Speaker 1: pudding was everything Starling had promised and more. The hearty
• 2:29:28
  Speaker 1: grain grounded the pallid with wholesome warmth, while the spiced
• 2:29:32
  Speaker 1: clover honey sang a sweet, comforting lullaby over the dark
• 2:29:37
  Speaker 1: wild fruit, warming each creature from the inside out. As
• 2:29:52
  Speaker 1: the initial hunger was satisfied, the atmosphere in the hall
• 2:29:56
  Speaker 1: grew lively and joyful with comfortable, unhurried conversation. Teapots of
• 2:30:02
  Speaker 1: red earthenware, wrapped in thick-knitted cozies to preserve their heat,
• 2:30:07
  Speaker 1: were brought forth and set along the table. Mrs. Fieldmouse
• 2:30:12
  Speaker 1: poured steaming cups of roasted dandelion root tea, blended with
• 2:30:17
  Speaker 1: dried sweet sisali and chamomile blossoms. while Bramble uncorked a
• 2:30:22
  Speaker 1: small earthenware jug of spiced apple cider that had been
• 2:30:26
  Speaker 1: gently warmed upon the hearthstones. Laughter, light, and musical echoed
• 2:30:32
  Speaker 1: off the curved oak walls. Moss sat beside Thistle, his
• 2:30:37
  Speaker 1: little belly comfortably rounded beneath his woolen waistcoat, chuckling as
• 2:30:42
  Speaker 1: Pip the Squirrel recounted his heroic efforts to sweep the
• 2:30:46
  Speaker 1: woodland path clear of twigs. Pip demonstrated with energetic flicks
• 2:30:55
  Speaker 1: of his front paws, pretending to toss massive branches into
• 2:31:00
  Speaker 1: the ferns, which sent the young hedgehogs into fits of
• 2:31:04
  Speaker 1: giggles until their mother had to pad their shoulders. And
• 2:31:08
  Speaker 1: you should have seen Bramble at Pebble Ford, Starling added
• 2:31:12
  Speaker 1: from her armchair, her voice bright and melodic across the room.
• 2:31:18
  Speaker 1: He waded into the current like a mountain moving through
• 2:31:21
  Speaker 1: the reeds. lifting the entire sled as though it were
• 2:31:25
  Speaker 1: no heavier than a dandelion seed drifting upon an autumn breeze.
• 2:31:30
  Speaker 1: Bramble blushed beneath his gray and white stripes, taking a
• 2:31:34
  Speaker 1: modest sip from his cider mug. Nonsense, darling. A badger's
• 2:31:40
  Speaker 1: shoulders were made for caring, just as a bird's wings
• 2:31:43
  Speaker 1: were made for flying and a hedgehog's quills were made
• 2:31:47
  Speaker 1: for keeping him snug during winter naps. We each do
• 2:31:55
  Speaker 1: our small part, and together the work is light and joyful.
• 2:31:59
  Speaker 1: Plates were scraped clean until only glossy purple streaks and
• 2:32:04
  Speaker 1: sweet golden crumbs remained upon the sycamore wood. Moss carefully
• 2:32:09
  Speaker 1: gathered a small pile of the sweet crumbs with the
• 2:32:12
  Speaker 1: tip of his spoon, popping them into his mouth with
• 2:32:15
  Speaker 1: an appreciative hum. The crumbs... Moss observed with a twinkle
• 2:32:19
  Speaker 1: in his eye, are often the finest part of the pudding,
• 2:32:23
  Speaker 1: for they hold the deepest concentration of the honey crust
• 2:32:27
  Speaker 1: and the spiced orange peel. Hear, hear, agreed old Mr. Mole,
• 2:32:33
  Speaker 1: tapping the table with his wooden spoon in hearty assent.
• 2:32:36
  Speaker 1: A feast that leaves no crumbs behind is a good feast,
• 2:32:41
  Speaker 1: but a feast where the crumbs are cherished is a
• 2:32:44
  Speaker 1: true triumph of culinary fellowship. In the corner of the room,
• 2:32:49
  Speaker 1: near a small window curtained with dried hop vines, a
• 2:32:53
  Speaker 1: friendly field cricket took up his tiny wooden fiddle. Rawling
• 2:33:01
  Speaker 1: his bow with a slow, gentle stroke, he began to
• 2:33:05
  Speaker 1: play a soft, rhythmic melody, an old Womblewood folk tune
• 2:33:09
  Speaker 1: that had been hummed by mothers to their sleepy young
• 2:33:13
  Speaker 1: for hundreds of seasons. The music was not loud, or
• 2:33:17
  Speaker 1: demanding it was as quiet as the rustle of dry
• 2:33:20
  Speaker 1: leaves swaying with the peaceful cadence of the forest night.
• 2:33:24
  Speaker 1: The notes drifted through the warm air like floating thistle seeds,
• 2:33:29
  Speaker 1: soothing every ear and coaxing every tired limb into stillness.
• 2:33:45
  Speaker 1: As the cricket played his tender tune and the fire
• 2:33:48
  Speaker 1: burned down to a deep, radiant bed of scarlet and
• 2:33:52
  Speaker 1: gold embers, the lively chatter began to mellow into a quiet,
• 2:33:58
  Speaker 1: drowsy peace. The great room was enveloped in a cocoon
• 2:34:02
  Speaker 1: of heavy, comforting warmth. The outside world, with its crisp
• 2:34:08
  Speaker 1: night air and gathering frost upon the leaves— was entirely
• 2:34:12
  Speaker 1: shut out by the massive, sturdy walls of the ancient oak.
• 2:34:17
  Speaker 1: Inside there was only security, friendship, and the quiet satisfaction
• 2:34:22
  Speaker 1: that comes from shared labors, forgiven mistakes, and full bellies.
• 2:34:28
  Speaker 1: One by one, the woodland folk finished their tea and
• 2:34:32
  Speaker 1: leaned back against the benches. The young hedgehogs, their bellies
• 2:34:37
  Speaker 1: full of warm pudding and honey, had already begun to nod.
• 2:34:41
  Speaker 1: their heads drooping toward the table until their mother gently
• 2:34:45
  Speaker 1: gathered them into her lap, wrapping them in a wide
• 2:34:49
  Speaker 1: flannel blanket of cranberry wool. Think the squirrel had curled
• 2:34:58
  Speaker 1: himself into a neat ball in the corner of a
• 2:35:00
  Speaker 1: high cedar bench, his bushy tail draped over his nose
• 2:35:05
  Speaker 1: like a soft fur muff. Old Mr. Mole leaned his
• 2:35:09
  Speaker 1: chin upon his paws. his breathing falling into a slow,
• 2:35:13
  Speaker 1: regular rhythm that sounded like a distant, contented purr. Ma
• 2:35:19
  Speaker 1: sat with his paws folded comfortably over his waistcoat, watching
• 2:35:23
  Speaker 1: the flickering dance of the embers in the hearth. A
• 2:35:27
  Speaker 1: profound sense of gratitude settled over the little mouse, warming
• 2:35:32
  Speaker 1: him far deeper than the fire could reach. He thought
• 2:35:36
  Speaker 1: of how the day had begun, with the startling discovery
• 2:35:40
  Speaker 1: of the empty cooling stone, the anxious tracks through the moss,
• 2:35:45
  Speaker 1: and the uncertainty of the trail. Yet every step of
• 2:35:48
  Speaker 1: the journey had led not to conflict or sorrow, but
• 2:35:52
  Speaker 1: to a deeper fellowship with Starling, an improved recipe, and
• 2:35:57
  Speaker 1: an evening filled with laughter and mutual care. Starling, resting
• 2:36:07
  Speaker 1: in her soft armchair, caught Moss's eye and offered a gentle,
• 2:36:12
  Speaker 1: contented nod. Her feathers were puffed out in complete relaxation,
• 2:36:17
  Speaker 1: her bright eyes growing heavy beneath drooping lids. Thank you, Moss,
• 2:36:23
  Speaker 1: she murmured selfly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
• 2:36:28
  Speaker 1: Thank you for following the trail with kindness instead of anger.
• 2:36:33
  Speaker 1: I have never felt so welcome in all my days.
• 2:36:36
  Speaker 1: You belong here, starling, Moss replied softly, his voice full
• 2:36:41
  Speaker 1: of sincere affection. The Pudding Club is not merely about
• 2:36:46
  Speaker 1: what we eat, it is about who we share our
• 2:36:49
  Speaker 1: warmth with. You are one of us now, for every
• 2:36:52
  Speaker 1: season to come. Thistle reached over and gave Moss's shoulder
• 2:36:57
  Speaker 1: an affectionate pat, then looked around the quiet, candlelit hall.
• 2:37:02
  Speaker 1: the evening had reached its gentle turning-point. When the last
• 2:37:14
  Speaker 1: notes of the cricket's gentle fiddle faded into the warm air,
• 2:37:19
  Speaker 1: a hush as soft as falling thistle-down descended upon the
• 2:37:23
  Speaker 1: great hall of the hollow oak. The feast had reached
• 2:37:27
  Speaker 1: its natural unhurried conclusion, leaving behind a room filled with
• 2:37:32
  Speaker 1: quiet contentment and the comforting scent of wood smoke, spiced
• 2:37:36
  Speaker 1: clover honey, and steep turbs. In Womblewood, the clearing of
• 2:37:41
  Speaker 1: a banquet table was never unwelcome chore or a noisy bustle. Rather,
• 2:37:47
  Speaker 1: it was a gentle, cooperative ritual of friendship carried out
• 2:37:52
  Speaker 1: with slow, considerate movements so as not to disturb the
• 2:37:56
  Speaker 1: sweet drowsiness that had settled over the gathering. Every creature
• 2:38:01
  Speaker 1: took part in a spirit of quiet fellowship, moving with
• 2:38:05
  Speaker 1: soft footsteps across the smooth birch floorboards. Moss rose from
• 2:38:11
  Speaker 1: his seat, adjusting his woolen waistcoat, and walked to the
• 2:38:15
  Speaker 1: end of the long table where Mrs. Fieldmouse and two
• 2:38:19
  Speaker 1: elder voles had begun the peaceful work. Together they gathered
• 2:38:27
  Speaker 1: the wooden voles and sycamore platters with meticulous care. The
• 2:38:32
  Speaker 1: dishes were carried to a low wooden counter near the pantry,
• 2:38:36
  Speaker 1: where a tub of steaming spring water, scented with sprigs
• 2:38:40
  Speaker 1: of dried sweet marjoram and crushed lemon verbena, had been prepared.
• 2:38:46
  Speaker 1: With soft linen cloths that had been dried in summer
• 2:38:49
  Speaker 1: sunshine upon the meadow grass, each bowl was wiped clean,
• 2:38:54
  Speaker 1: polished to a mellow luster, and stacked in neat piles
• 2:38:58
  Speaker 1: upon the low cedar shelves. The cherrywood spoons were laid
• 2:39:02
  Speaker 1: side by side in a small basket woven from peeled
• 2:39:06
  Speaker 1: willow oshares, and the red earthenware teapots were gently rinsed
• 2:39:11
  Speaker 1: and set upside down on a clean linen towel to drain.
• 2:39:16
  Speaker 1: The big copper kettle was wiped with a dry rag
• 2:39:19
  Speaker 1: and set back onto its iron trivet beside the hearth,
• 2:39:23
  Speaker 1: its bright metal gleaming softly and in the dying firelight.
• 2:39:32
  Speaker 1: A single plate clattered against another, every cup was placed
• 2:39:36
  Speaker 1: with deliberate gentleness, as though the wood and clay themselves
• 2:39:41
  Speaker 1: were already falling asleep. Moss took a small hand broom
• 2:39:45
  Speaker 1: woven from dried sweetgrass and swept the length of the
• 2:39:49
  Speaker 1: split birch table, gathering the remaining purple crumbs into a
• 2:39:54
  Speaker 1: shallow earthenware saucer. He walked with light paws to the
• 2:39:58
  Speaker 1: small arched casement window and placed the saucer upon the
• 2:40:02
  Speaker 1: broad wooden sill outside, where the early waking robins and
• 2:40:06
  Speaker 1: finches could find a sweet breakfast waiting for them in
• 2:40:10
  Speaker 1: the first light of dawn. Meanwhile, Thistle stepped up to
• 2:40:14
  Speaker 1: the great hearth with a broom of dried heather twigs.
• 2:40:18
  Speaker 1: With practiced, unhurried strokes, he swept the hearthstones clean of
• 2:40:23
  Speaker 1: stray sparks and then took up a broad iron shovel
• 2:40:27
  Speaker 1: to bank the glowing beechwood embers with a thick, even
• 2:40:31
  Speaker 1: blanket of pale gray ash. This gentle blanket of ash
• 2:40:39
  Speaker 1: would keep the coals breathing with a low, steady warmth
• 2:40:43
  Speaker 1: throughout the long night, radiating heat upward into the heartwood
• 2:40:48
  Speaker 1: and ensuring that the roots of the ancient tree would
• 2:40:51
  Speaker 1: remain pleasantly warm until the morning arrived. Outside the arched entrance,
• 2:41:07
  Speaker 1: the autumn night had deepened into a canopy of velvety
• 2:41:11
  Speaker 1: indigos studded with countless pale stars that shone like tiny
• 2:41:16
  Speaker 1: silver lanterns through the high branches of the forest canopy.
• 2:41:21
  Speaker 1: The woodland air is cool, pure and wonderfully still, carrying
• 2:41:26
  Speaker 1: the clean fragrance of dry oak leaves, damp moss, cold
• 2:41:31
  Speaker 1: river stones, and the faint, frosty promise of the coming season.
• 2:41:37
  Speaker 1: High above in the ancient boughs of a neighboring beech tree,
• 2:41:41
  Speaker 1: an old tawny owl sat puffed against the evening chill,
• 2:41:45
  Speaker 1: blinking his amber eyes with slow, sleepy contentment as he
• 2:41:50
  Speaker 1: watched the peaceful clearing below. It was the hour when
• 2:41:54
  Speaker 1: neighbors said their fond goodnights, wrapping their woolen cloaks and
• 2:41:59
  Speaker 1: knitted scarves tightly around their shoulders and as they prepared
• 2:42:03
  Speaker 1: for the short, peaceful walk to their own cozy dwellings.
• 2:42:08
  Speaker 1: Bramble the badger was the first to depart. He adjusted
• 2:42:16
  Speaker 1: his heavy corduroy waistcoat, pulled on his thick wool mittens,
• 2:42:20
  Speaker 1: and wound his long tweed muffler three times around his
• 2:42:24
  Speaker 1: broad neck until his chin was buried in warmth. He
• 2:42:28
  Speaker 1: lit his small foreign lantern with a burning splinter from
• 2:42:32
  Speaker 1: the hearth then paused in the arched doorway, his kind-striped
• 2:42:36
  Speaker 1: face glowing in the amber light as he looked back
• 2:42:39
  Speaker 1: over the sleepy hall. Good night, dear friends, the great
• 2:42:43
  Speaker 1: badger rumbled in his deep, soothing voice which sounded like
• 2:42:48
  Speaker 1: a low cello playing a gentle lullaby across a quiet meadow.
• 2:42:53
  Speaker 1: May your sleep be deep, your beds be soft. And
• 2:42:57
  Speaker 1: your dreams be sweet with the memory of good fellowship.
• 2:43:01
  Speaker 1: With slow, steady strides, Bramble ambled down the winding path
• 2:43:06
  Speaker 1: through the tall brocken, his heavy boots making a soft,
• 2:43:10
  Speaker 1: rhythmic crunch upon the fallen leaves until the swinging glow
• 2:43:14
  Speaker 1: of his lantern disappeared beneath the gentle brow of Fernridge.
• 2:43:19
  Speaker 1: Next came Mrs. Bramble. Feudlaus. leading her little family along
• 2:43:28
  Speaker 1: the pine needle trail. The younger mice were already half asleep,
• 2:43:33
  Speaker 1: their little paws tucked securely into their mother's apron pockets
• 2:43:37
  Speaker 1: as they shuffled forward with drowsy contentment, their small woolen
• 2:43:42
  Speaker 1: hoods pulled over their ears. Old Mr. Mole followed behind
• 2:43:47
  Speaker 1: them with his willow cane, murmuring peaceful farewells before slipping
• 2:43:52
  Speaker 1: down into the warm, carpeted entrance of his own subterranean parlor,
• 2:43:57
  Speaker 1: beneath the roots of an ancient hazel, where a mug
• 2:44:01
  Speaker 1: of warm milk and a patchwork quilt awaited him. By
• 2:44:05
  Speaker 1: the time the heavy oak entrance door was pushed shut
• 2:44:08
  Speaker 1: and secured with its stout cedar crossbar, only those who
• 2:44:12
  Speaker 1: were spending the night inside the great oak remained. Moss, thistle,
• 2:44:18
  Speaker 1: Starling and a pair of sleepy dormus were left within
• 2:44:22
  Speaker 1: the tranquil sanctuary of the ancient trunk where the thick,
• 2:44:26
  Speaker 1: gnarled bark formed an impenetrable fortress of warmth and protection
• 2:44:31
  Speaker 1: against the quiet world outside. Inside the massive trunk of
• 2:44:46
  Speaker 1: the great hollow oak Nature and generations of woodland craftsmanship
• 2:44:51
  Speaker 1: had fashioned dozens of snug sleeping chambers, nestled into the
• 2:44:56
  Speaker 1: gentle curves of the heartwood. There were low alcoves tucked
• 2:45:00
  Speaker 1: between the buttress roots, round nooks carved into the interior
• 2:45:05
  Speaker 1: curves of the trunk and high, sheltered perches set beneath
• 2:45:09
  Speaker 1: the vaulted timber ceiling where the rising heat of the
• 2:45:12
  Speaker 1: heart created a pocket of unbroken warmth. Each chamber was
• 2:45:17
  Speaker 1: appointed with every comfort a weary forest traveler could desire.
• 2:45:22
  Speaker 1: Prepared with loving care by the community for nights just
• 2:45:26
  Speaker 1: like this, the air and the hollows smelled faintly of
• 2:45:29
  Speaker 1: ancient dry oak, beeswax polish, dried lavender, and the wholesome
• 2:45:35
  Speaker 1: sweetness of the banked fire. Starling fluttered up to a smooth,
• 2:45:40
  Speaker 1: polished hazelwood roofs that extended between two ancient tinger brackets
• 2:45:45
  Speaker 1: just beneath the upper beams, directly above the sleeping heartstones.
• 2:45:54
  Speaker 1: The rising warmth from the banked coals enveloped her in
• 2:45:58
  Speaker 1: a gentle, soothing draft that felt like a soft woolen blanket.
• 2:46:03
  Speaker 1: She hopped along the branch until she found the softest curved,
• 2:46:08
  Speaker 1: then dipped her wings and settled down upon her feet.
• 2:46:12
  Speaker 1: Her glossy plumage, which had shone so brightly during the feast,
• 2:46:17
  Speaker 1: fluffed out until she resembled a round, downy sphere of
• 2:46:21
  Speaker 1: dark velvet each feather arranged for maximum warmth. She tucked
• 2:46:26
  Speaker 1: her head beneath her right wing, letting out a soft
• 2:46:30
  Speaker 1: contented trill of utter peace that resonated faintly in the
• 2:46:35
  Speaker 1: quiet room before trailing off into silence. All the anxiety
• 2:46:40
  Speaker 1: of the borrowed pudding had vanished forever. She was home,
• 2:46:44
  Speaker 1: she was safe, and she was cherished by true friends.
• 2:46:49
  Speaker 1: Lower down, in a wide, curved alcove hollowed from the
• 2:46:54
  Speaker 1: base of a sudden root, Thistle prepared his resting place.
• 2:47:03
  Speaker 1: He stepped into a broad, low-sided basket woven from peeled
• 2:47:07
  Speaker 1: willow twigs lined deeply with fragrant dried firm fronds, clean
• 2:47:13
  Speaker 1: wood shavings, and a thick fleece of soft sheep's wool
• 2:47:17
  Speaker 1: that smelled of clover pastures. The hedgehog took off his
• 2:47:22
  Speaker 1: little leather boots and placed them neatly side by side
• 2:47:25
  Speaker 1: beside the basket, setting his walking stick within easy reach
• 2:47:30
  Speaker 1: against the root wall. Then, with a long, Luxurious yawn
• 2:47:36
  Speaker 1: that stretched his whiskered snout and made his little ears wiggle,
• 2:47:41
  Speaker 1: Thistle curled himself into a neat round ball, his soft
• 2:47:45
  Speaker 1: belly protected and his spine smooth flat and harmless against
• 2:47:51
  Speaker 1: the woolly fleece. He pulled a corner of a red
• 2:47:54
  Speaker 1: flannel blanket over his shoulders, nestled his nose against his
• 2:47:59
  Speaker 1: front paws, and let out a deep, snuffling breath of
• 2:48:04
  Speaker 1: pure contentment. Near the base of the small timber staircase,
• 2:48:14
  Speaker 1: two little dormice had already climbed into a suspended cradle
• 2:48:18
  Speaker 1: made from a polished half-gourd lined with downy lamb's wool
• 2:48:22
  Speaker 1: and thistle fluff. They were curled tightly together like two
• 2:48:27
  Speaker 1: brown velvet chestnuts, their long tails wrapped around each other's noses,
• 2:48:33
  Speaker 1: fast asleep before their mother had even finished singing her
• 2:48:37
  Speaker 1: evening verse. Okay. Think then stayed through a percent of
• 2:48:52
  Speaker 1: the thoughts of lotless and Domenko was not rising. They
• 2:48:56
  Speaker 1: birched it of the sigil or a fiond, other screen, Faya,
• 2:49:01
  Speaker 1: propped in a piece of woesried faunal suffue, and hunted Lauren. Peace.
• 2:49:07
  Speaker 1: The little mouse hung his woolen waistcoat upon a wooden peg,
• 2:49:11
  Speaker 1: smoothed his fur with a quick, neat brush of his paws,
• 2:49:15
  Speaker 1: and slipped beneath the covers of his tiny bed. The
• 2:49:19
  Speaker 1: bedstead was fashioned from dried elderberry twigs, and the mattress
• 2:49:24
  Speaker 1: was stuffed with dried clover blossoms and sweet vernal grass.
• 2:49:28
  Speaker 1: which gave off a faint, comforting fragrance of summer hay
• 2:49:32
  Speaker 1: whenever he moved. Over him lay a patchwork quilt fashioned
• 2:49:37
  Speaker 1: from squares of soft flannel and padded with the silken
• 2:49:41
  Speaker 1: down of autumn milkweed pods, lightweight yet wonderfully warm. On
• 2:49:46
  Speaker 1: the small bedside shife Moss had placed a tiny acorn
• 2:49:50
  Speaker 1: cup of cool spring water, a small sprig of dried lavender,
• 2:49:55
  Speaker 1: and his little pocket comb. He settled his head upon
• 2:50:03
  Speaker 1: a small bolster filled with dried-hop flowers which the elders
• 2:50:08
  Speaker 1: said brought peaceful, untroubled dreams to any creature who slept
• 2:50:13
  Speaker 1: upon them. He pulled the patchwork quilt up to his chin,
• 2:50:17
  Speaker 1: his small paws resting lightly upon the folded hem. From
• 2:50:22
  Speaker 1: where he lay he could hear the slow, rhythmic breathing
• 2:50:26
  Speaker 1: of his companions, the soft, whistling purr of thistle in
• 2:50:30
  Speaker 1: his willow basket, the gentle, almost imperceptible murmur of starling
• 2:50:36
  Speaker 1: on her high roost, and the distant, soothing tick of
• 2:50:41
  Speaker 1: the great wooden wall clock that hung beside the pantry archway.
• 2:50:46
  Speaker 1: The clock had been carved from seasoned walnut wood by
• 2:50:49
  Speaker 1: an old carpenter beetle many decades before. Its pendulum swung
• 2:50:55
  Speaker 1: with a slow, hypnotic stroke, tick, tock, Tick, tock, it
• 2:51:00
  Speaker 1: was not a hasty sound, but an unhurried, patient measure
• 2:51:05
  Speaker 1: that seemed to say, Star, all is well, all is safe,
• 2:51:11
  Speaker 1: rest now. Think deep. With every swing of the pendulum,
• 2:51:20
  Speaker 1: the lingering thoughts of the day loosened their hold on
• 2:51:24
  Speaker 1: Moss's mind. The memory of the empty stone The jammy
• 2:51:28
  Speaker 1: footprints through the moss, the long hall through the twilight,
• 2:51:33
  Speaker 1: and the joyful laughter around the banquet table all softened
• 2:51:37
  Speaker 1: into a warm, golden haze, drifting away like fallen leaves
• 2:51:43
  Speaker 1: carried down a quiet, winding stream. Moss looked out through
• 2:51:48
  Speaker 1: the small knot hole beside his pillow. Outside, in the
• 2:51:52
  Speaker 1: deep height, the silhouette of the great branches stood dark
• 2:51:56
  Speaker 1: and steady, against the dusting of stars. Not a single
• 2:52:01
  Speaker 1: leaf stirred in alarm, not a single shadow moved with haste.
• 2:52:06
  Speaker 1: The great wood had wrapped itself in its autumn mantle,
• 2:52:10
  Speaker 1: content to rest after the long harvest season, storing its
• 2:52:14
  Speaker 1: strength beneath the quiet earth. He felt his eyelids growing
• 2:52:19
  Speaker 1: heavier with each quiet beat of his heart. The last
• 2:52:33
  Speaker 1: beeswax taper on the mantelpiece burned down to its walnut socket,
• 2:52:38
  Speaker 1: sputtered with a tiny, friendly hiss, and went out, sending
• 2:52:43
  Speaker 1: a slender thread of fragrant honey-scented smoke curling lazily toward
• 2:52:47
  Speaker 1: the rafters. Now the only light in the great hall
• 2:52:51
  Speaker 1: was the deep, comforting glow of the banked fire, pulsing
• 2:52:55
  Speaker 1: like a gentle heartbeat beneath its blanket of pale gray ash.
• 2:52:59
  Speaker 1: The ruby light painted soft, drossy shadows across the curved
• 2:53:04
  Speaker 1: timber walls, wrapping the room in a tender, protective gloom
• 2:53:09
  Speaker 1: where tired eyes could close without effort. Outside the thick
• 2:53:13
  Speaker 1: oak walls, the great woodland of Wumblewood slept beneath the vast,
• 2:53:18
  Speaker 1: silent heavens. The branches of the ancient trees swayed with
• 2:53:23
  Speaker 1: a gentle, barely audible sigh as as a soft night
• 2:53:27
  Speaker 1: breeze passed over the canopy, singing a lullaby to the
• 2:53:31
  Speaker 1: dormant seeds and sleeping roots tucked deep beneath the forest floor.
• 2:53:40
  Speaker 1: The ferns rested in the moss, the brook at Pebble
• 2:53:43
  Speaker 1: Ford murmured its quiet song to the polished stones, and
• 2:53:48
  Speaker 1: every burrow, nest, and hollow throughout the valley was filled
• 2:53:52
  Speaker 1: with peaceful, untroubled slumber. There were no dangers in these
• 2:53:58
  Speaker 1: quiet woods, no anxious thoughts, and no hurried tasks waiting
• 2:54:03
  Speaker 1: in the dark. There was only the great, sheltering piece
• 2:54:07
  Speaker 1: of the earth, holding every small creature in its patient,
• 2:54:12
  Speaker 1: loving embrace. Within each cozy chamber of the oak, the
• 2:54:16
  Speaker 1: rhythm of sleep took hold completely. Muscles that had walked
• 2:54:21
  Speaker 1: the forest paths now softened into utter limpness, Paws that
• 2:54:26
  Speaker 1: had pulled the sled or washed the wooden plates lay
• 2:54:30
  Speaker 1: loose and relaxed upon flannel coverlets and fleece cushions. The
• 2:54:35
  Speaker 1: gentle warmth of the steamed pudding and honey still radiated
• 2:54:39
  Speaker 1: softly within each small belly, sending waves of soothing comfort
• 2:54:44
  Speaker 1: through every limb. Every breath was drawn slowly, steadily, and deeply.
• 2:54:54
  Speaker 1: filling small chests with the clean, calming perfume of dried
• 2:54:59
  Speaker 1: herbs and cool woodland air before, being released in soft,
• 2:55:04
  Speaker 1: contented sighs. Moss let his eyelids slide completely shut, feeling
• 2:55:11
  Speaker 1: a profound, heavy warmth sink down through his shoulders, down
• 2:55:16
  Speaker 1: through his small paws and deep into the core of
• 2:55:19
  Speaker 1: his being. His belly was full of wholesome oats and
• 2:55:23
  Speaker 1: golden clover honey, his heart was full of the quiet
• 2:55:27
  Speaker 1: joy of friendship, and his little body was wrapped in
• 2:55:30
  Speaker 1: soft blankets beneath the sheltering bark of the oldest tree
• 2:55:35
  Speaker 1: in the forest. He drew in one last, deep, slow
• 2:55:40
  Speaker 1: breath of the sweet, lavender-scented air, held that quiet stillness
• 2:55:45
  Speaker 1: for a peaceful moment, and then released it in a long,
• 2:55:49
  Speaker 1: saw sigh that joined the sleepy chorus of the room.
• 2:55:57
  Speaker 1: And so the night deepened over Wummelwood. The great oak
• 2:56:02
  Speaker 1: tree held its sleeping children in unbroken warmth and tender safety,
• 2:56:07
  Speaker 1: and with full bellies and peaceful hearts, the friends drifted
• 2:56:12
  Speaker 1: together into a long, Restorative sleep that carried them gently
• 2:56:17
  Speaker 1: and completely through the dark until the first golden light
• 2:56:21
  Speaker 1: of the morning should wake the forest to another quiet day.