On an unusually cool morning in late summer, with a crisp breeze ruffling their fur and buffeting their tails, the older squirrel and chipmunk children were feeling frisky.
At a nearly imperceptible signal from one of the squirrels — a mere twitch of his nose — they were off, racing each other through the garden, around the perimeter of the meadow, across the cottage porch, along the top of the fence, and up and down tree trunks, zig-zagging here and there, back and forth, tails twitching, and slowed only slightly by all the laughter as they ran.
There was no clear winner, but they all stopped running as abruptly as they’d started. And after the briefest of discussions, they agreed to, first, go home to collect a treasure or two and, then, to meet at Rabbit’s tea shop in time to be there when Raccoon arrived with the day’s baked goods. It was blueberry scone day, and they loved blueberries.