During each golden afternoon full of swirling leaves and slantwise sunshine, Rabbit watched for signs of frost.

She knew, of course, that the afternoon of the first frosty morning would be the bees’ final salon of the season. And this year, they had all agreed to gather at the appointed hour in Rabbit’s tea shop, where they could sip at saucers filled with honey-scented mint tea and nibble on lavender shortbread and honey cakes.

Traditionally, everyone was invited to this last salon, the only stipulation being that anyone who came had to tell a story. Since the bees would be nesting all winter, and couldn’t be outside, they craved impossible-sounding tales of ice-covered branches and frost-tinged leaves, snow-covered meadows, and cold, clear nights lit by a thousand glittering stars.

(Early November 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 ReadPurrNewsletter.com.