And now it was moving day. Mama Chipmunk had promised to help and, after making an early start that morning, had arrived in the woods, at the remnants of her cousin’s former house, around breakfast time.

Mouse and his wife arrived at the fallen tree shortly afterwards, bearing coffee and hot biscuits, and the four of them settled in to packing. Once the dishes and cooking things and the set of antique fountain pens were wrapped in paper, and everything was loaded into piles of bags and stacks of boxes, they each carried what they could to the new apartment (which smelled faintly of maple syrup) while Crow and her cousins made light work of the larger boxes and the furniture.

By late evening, Mama Chipmunk’s cousin was unpacking things in her cozy new house while Mouse explained the tree’s habits and quirks, his wife made a giant bowl of spaghetti for dinner, and Mama Chipmunk — who rarely left the garden — sat in the open doorway and watched as the woods grew darker and hundreds of twinkling fireflies came out to play.

(July 2023)

Story & Photo © Jennifer Singleton / Read+Purr

This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales, full of cozy vibes, delicious details, and generous dollops of imagination & whimsy. 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 Private Garden page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories. Want each week’s featured story delivered directly to your inbox? Subscribe to my Substack.