It was only mid-afternoon, a week or so before the shortest day, and the trees in the woods and in the garden were already making long dusky shadows in the bright winter sunshine.


Old Possum had gone outside to start collecting supplies for the garlands he planned to make for this year’s Christmas tree. While he scooped bright-red berries off the ground and into a basket, the berries still clinging to the honeysuckle stems above his head drew dozens upon dozens of robins and starlings, who swooped and settled and swooped again, all the while feasting and gossiping and singing.


(Mid-December 2023)


Story © Jennifer 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. If you’re new to Tiny Garden Story-land and would like 10 days’ worth of stories from our first year, visit


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