Bright sunlight stretched across the grass beside the low hill. The ground felt warm beneath them.

A long tree shadow reached across the grass. Then it split.

Peeba stepped into one, then the other. “Mmm. Both are cool.”

Thimble watched closely. “The edges moved.”

Rill jumped between them. Tap. Tap.

A cloud moved away from the sun, and the shadows joined again. They stood together in the shade while the ground held the warmth.

Near the wood line, the air was very still. No leaves moved. No grass bent.

Peeba lifted his nose. “Mmm. It smells like waiting.”

Rill waved his paw. “Is it broken?”

Bracken tilted his head. “It is waiting.”

Peeba stood very still. “So am I.” They stayed that way. Nothing happened.

Then the air moved, just once. The grass leaned. The leaves lifted. The clover nodded.

“Oh,” Rill said. “There you are.” The breeze passed through. Then it was gone.

The grass stood again. The leaves rested. The clover was still.

Above them, a wide cloud moved slowly across the sky. The light dimmed. The air cooled.

“It got quieter,” Rill said.

Peeba looked up. “Mmm. Like a blanket.” They watched.

Then the sunlight returned, warm again. “Oh,” Bracken said. The light settled, and the meadow rested.

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