While her grandchildren skipped to the meadow in the middle of the woods to fly their new kites, Mama Chipmunk scampered to the cottage porch, where she discreetly harvested a pile of mint leaves from one of the herb pots, then carried them back to her cozy stone house, balancing them one on top of another, all tucked under her chin, like a pile of clean, folded towels.

Back in her kitchen, she ignored the dirty breakfast dishes, pulled a nearly full bottle of fresh milk out of the icebox, and proceeded to make a batch of mint ice cream.

(Early September 2024)

Story © Jennifer McClain Singleton / Read+Purr

This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales that let you read like a kid again. Click one of the first two buttons below to go to (or back to, if that’s where you fell down the rabbit hole) either the “Public Garden” archive page or (if you’re a Story Club member) to the members-only “Private Garden” page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories.

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