The weather had turned surprisingly cold, and a dusting of snow blanketed the garden.

Old Possum awoke that morning feeling chilled and trundled to the fireplace to light a fire.

Through the window, he could see the honeysuckle on the far side of the garden fence. The bushes were teeming with robins: singing, gossiping, feasting on berries.

As tempting as the brisk outdoors might be, Possum decided there would be other days for scarf-wrapped walks. Today, he would stay in.

So he settled himself by the crackling fire, feeling immensely grateful for hot tea and warm quilts and good books​.

(Late November 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.

If you’re new to Tiny Garden Story-land and would like 10 free stories from our first year (plus a free PDF of Old Possum’s map of the garden), visit ReadPurrNewsletter.com.

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