“Go on, Silly Child. You can do it. You need to do it.” Mister Butterfly encouraged, before flying over and landing on Miss Owl. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
And that’s when I jumped. The wind burned my eyes but stole the tears away. My scarf flapped wildly, tugging this way and that. Even my sweat was blown away by the cold air as I fell. And then, just as quickly as I had been falling, I wasn’t. I was flying. The impact of landing on Miss Owl’s back was like landing in a bed of feathers. Probably because she was covered in them.
“Silly Child! I didn’t think you’d jump without telling me first.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I just needed to do it. Just take the first step. No hesitation, no doubt.”
“Bravery isn’t having no fear. Bravery is looking at the face of fear and not giving it a chance to stop you.” Mister Butterfly says softly, landing on the back of my hand.
My hands buried into the white feathers, holding tight. I didn’t want to fall, but I didn’t want to hurt Miss Owl either. The winds were strong. The snow never stopped, and we flew straight into the blizzard. I pulled my scarf closer to my face, covering my frozen nose. But that only made me colder. When I touched my scarf again, I realized it had turned to ice. And when I ran my hand along Miss Owl’s back, I felt her feathers starting to freeze too. I realize how difficult it must be to fly through a snowstorm. Or at least, how unpleasant. Looking up at the sky, I saw a sea of grey, with a patch of sunlight here or there. Looking down, I saw a sea of emerald swaying with the wild winds. Pine trees bending to the storm.
“Miss Owl, thank you so much. I know it’s cold, and probably hard to fly in this weather.”
“Oh, please! This is nothing for me. I am the Wisest, and the greatest bird in the whole forest, remember? I’ve flown through storms much bigger.”
“I know. But still. Thank you. It’s only polite to show love to someone who helps you.” I rub my hand along the back of the gold and white feathers, pushing the snow and ice away. I was trying my best to help somehow.
“You know, you really are a silly child.” Mister Butterfly said.
“I know.” Closing my eyes, I felt Miss Owl sail along the currents of the storm. The icy winds climbed inside of me and danced, then left just as quick. I’d never flown before. Never been in a plane. And here I was, on Christmas Day, riding a giant owl through a blizzard. Not what I expected when I went outside to play in the snow.
Miss Owl’s voice drifted up to me and pulled me from daydreaming. “Silly Child! We’re almost to the den of the Swiftest. I hope that you know what you’re going to say!”
“What do you mean, Miss Owl? You aren’t going to stay with us and speak with the Swiftest too?”
“Me? What? Are you crazy? No way, no how. I’m not staying out in this cold, you Silly Child. I’m going to go back to my nice, cozy nest.” Then without even a head’s up, Miss Owl dove down towards the base of the mountains. “I’m going to go back and sleep right through this awful blizzard. Sleep until I can’t sleep anymore."
We started to fly in circles, down towards the ground. Beside us, the Appalachian Mountains were tall and mysterious. Covered in a thick layer of snow, they were more white than green, and some thick grey clouds were floating around near the top. I loved staring at the mountains. They made me feel safe and comfortable. Probably because I had been looking at them my whole life. Below us was a small grove with peculiar trees. They had silver bark and bright red leaves. They stood out against the snow like red paint against a canvas. So bright, so inviting. A safe place that would shelter you from the blizzards and snow.
“Is that the den of the Swiftest, Miss Owl?”
“What’s that? Oh. Sharp eyes! Yeah, that’s it. The Spring Grove, we call it. You’ll see why.”
As we landed outside the Spring Grove, I gasped. The trees were even more beautiful in person. The bark didn’t just look silver; it was silver! Light bounced off the wood, making the whole tree look as if it was glowing. And the light that reflected off the bark shone into the leaves above, making them glow an even brighter red. Almost like someone was taking a flashlight and shining it through them. Mister Butterfly and I got off Miss Owl’s back. I thought I would land in a bunch of snow, but the ground was completely dry. Just a layer of deep green grass and a few dry leaves floating around.
“Well, this is as far as I take you. The Swiftest is inside the Spring Grove. You tell ‘em I say hello. I’d love to stick around, but the blizzards still going up there.” Shaking the snow from her feathered body, Ol’ Lady Owl blinks at us with her big amber eyes. “It was nice meeting you, Silly Child. Remember me next time you hear an owl hoot. And try not to get lost again, would you?”
“I will, Miss Owl. It was nice to meet you too! Stay warm and fly safely.”
“Yes, don’t get lost in all that snow.” Mister Butterfly adds to the farewell, fluttering around my head again.
“Oh, I won’t. I’m the Wisest, remember? Enjoy the warm weather while you can!” And with a few flaps of her golden wings, she was gone. Off into the blizzard again.
I didn’t realize it until then. The weather was completely different there. Sure, there was no snow on the ground, but it was more than that. The snow wasn’t falling there at all. The blizzard had completely disappeared, and the sun was even out! It was warm enough that the snow had already melted off my clothes, and Mister Butterfly was floating towards a nearby flower. I wondered what made this part of the forest different than the rest. Why it was so hot too! I was starting to sweat in my coat. It reminded me of the log tunnel I had to climb through to reach Ol’ Lady Owl’s nest. Flowers were growing there too. And just like in the log, there were other friendly insects and moss everywhere.
“It’s the trees.” Mister Butterfly said as he flew back towards me.
“What?” I asked, breaking out of my wonder.
“The weather. You’re wondering why it is different here, right? Why the weather is warmer, and there are so many flowers? “
“Oh. Yes, I was.”
“Well, it’s the trees. The silver bark of the trees catches the light, and that light bounces off warms the field and grove. When the light reaches the leaves, they hold onto the light and warmth even longer. At night, when the sun goes down, the leaves still glow read from all the light they have inside them. It makes the whole area warmer and stops the cold. The sunlight in the silver bark and leaves melts the snow before it can get close and feeds the plants and grass around us.”
“And that’s why you call it the Spring Grove?”
“Yes, Silly Child. That’s why we call it the Spring Grove. Well, one of the reasons. There’s also the inside.” Mister Butterfly said, his wings fluttering as he flies in circles around me.
Before I could say anything else, a strong wind pushed at my back, shoving me forward. I caught myself, after almost falling into a beautiful little bunch of lily-of-the-valley but looked around confused. This wind was different. It wasn’t the blizzard winds I felt while flying with Miss Owl, which was cold as the north pole and left my scarf covered in ice. This gust was more like a spring breeze, moving my hair and cooling the sweat on my forehead. It smelled like flowers that had just bloomed, and wet dirt, and grass that was pushing out of the soil. It smelled like wood that had been sitting in the sunlight for a long time and tree pollen. It smelled like the warm season.
“Well, are you coming in? Or are you just going to stand outside and keep me waiting?” A voice called from behind the silver trees. As it spoke, the red leaves danced in the wind. As if the wind and the voice were connected in some way.
“That’s the Swiftest. It must be. Come, let’s not keep them waiting.”
“What do you think the Swiftest looks like, Mister Butterfly?”
“No point in focusing on what maybe when you can move forward and find the answers. They’re right in front of you.”
“You’re right. Let’s go!”
I slipped through the wall of si
lver trees, running my hand along the glowing bark as I went. It was warm, like a stone that had been left out in the sun. And smooth, almost like the marble counters in my mom’s kitchen. I stepped around small bushes of wild berries and monkshood. I tried to be careful. ‘Don’t bother the plants.’ I told myself. ‘Because this is their home. How would I want someone to treat me or my home?’ If some stranger came walking into my garden, I hope they’d show me the same kindness.
Tiptoeing around the flowers and bushes and walking between the silver trees with their red leaves, I realized that this grove was a lot bigger than it looked from the sky. I had been walking through the glowing trees for a few minutes now, and I still couldn’t see the center. After a few more minutes of wandering, I began to wonder if I was going the wrong way.
“No, you’re going the right way.” Mister Butterfly told me. “It isn’t the direction you’re going; it’s the way you’re thinking. Do you remember when you were running on top of the snow? You had to think light thoughts. And when you wanted to go up the dead log? You had to think of up thoughts. This place is the same. So, all you need to do to reach the Grove of Spring is think of-”
“Spring! Right! Of course. You’re so smart, Mister Butterfly. Where would I be without you?”
“Oh, you’d be fine, you Silly Child. You’d just take a little longer to figure it out. But we all need a little help sometimes.”
So, I closed my eyes and filled my mind with spring. What did spring smell like? Fresh dew on flower petals. Trees budding and growing new leaves. Rain showers on hot dirt. What did spring sound like? Swallows and blue jays and robins, singing outside the window. Baby birds, chirping away as they break out of their shells. The buzz of bumblebees dancing between flowers. The soft tapping of a sun shower on the rocks outside. What does spring look like? Baby bunnies, hopping through the bright green grass. Blues and purples, reds and oranges, popping up from the ground in the form of new butterflies. The river by the house, gurgling and flowing again, babbling happily. Butterflies fluttering in the breeze. What does spring feel like? Warm sunshine kissing me as I finally wear a t-shirt again. Grass, soft and cool under my bare feet. Shade from the new leaves on the tree offering me comfort on the very hot days. A gentle breeze with the smell of flowers passing over me as I lay in the grass.
And just as I thought of that breeze, one came dancing through the trees, making the branches whisper to each other noisily. It tugged on my jacket and pushed me forward. And when I opened my eyes, I was looking at a giant grove! Or was it a meadow? Or both! Fields of flowers, just like the ones I imagined, spread out in front of me. Monkshood and lily-of-the-valley, milkwort and cardinal flower, milkweed, and azaleas! All my favorite flowers, the ones that made spring special, dancing in the warm breeze. A small brook cut through the center, sparkling in the sunshine. It laughed and giggled as it passed over pale white rocks. I followed the creek, watching the small fish and frogs that were living inside. A few croaked at me as I went past.
I stepped through the field of flowers slowly, taking in this new weather. Winter winds and soft snow is always nice, but after a couple of hours of being outside, you get tired. The feeling of soft petals touching my hands as I walked past, the sun hugging me and warming my insides; they were refreshing. I stopped for a moment by the creek, getting down on my knees. I didn’t mind the dirt or the way the frogs looked at me like I was crazy.
“What are you doing, Silly Child? Don’t you want to get home?”
“Of course, I do, Mister Butterfly! But I also want to enjoy this moment. The weather is beautiful. And I bet this water feels really nice.”
“Oh, it is.” One frog croaked at me, hopping on over to rest by my knee. She was a happy little frog, with brown spots on her back. The other frogs looked at me like they were scared, but this one was friendly. And when she looked up at me, she even smiled. “Why don’t you try it out? I bet you’ll like it so much you’ll take a swim.”
“I wish I could take a swim, Little Frog. But I’m just too big. Thanks for the offer, though.” I tugged my gloves off and dipped my hands in the water. The crystal-clear liquid flowed around my fingers as if they weren’t there, but I felt it. The water was gentle and cool, but not cold. Suddenly I wanted to just sit there and dip my feet in. Forget about my home. Forget about my worries.
“Maybe I could just stay here, living in this meadow without a care in the world. I’m sure Mom and Dad will be fine without me. They have my sisters. And this place is just so nice. So quiet and peaceful. Not like when my family comes over.”
“You say that now, but you love your family. It is easy to take for granted what’s always there. But if they weren’t around, you’d want them to be. You’d miss them.” The Little Frog croaked.
“Yeah, you’re right. But I don’t want to leave this place. Can I come back to it one day?”
Mister Butterfly landed on a white flower that sat by the creek and watched the water flow. “Life is like this brook. No matter what, it keeps on flowing. You can look behind you and remember the twists and turns, and you can look in front of you to see where it bends, but you can only see so far. And no matter what is behind you or in front of you, the creek will still carry you forward. Sometimes you’re better off just letting it flow.”
“I think what Mister Butterfly is trying to say is we don’t know if you’ll come back here or not. The best you can do is keep following the creek and hope that it will lead you back one day.” The Little Frog told me as she looked at the water with her big eyes.
“I guess you’re both right. I just like this place a lot.”
I leaned back into the grass and flowers, folding my arms behind my head. The clouds were little puffs of white overhead. They drifted so slowly. Not like the big, fast-moving clouds of the blizzard. Those were like giant ships, sailing through the sky. But these were like little white canoes, floating along at peace. I was starting to float away with them. The day had been so long, and I was starting to get sleepy. And just when I was ready to let my eyes shut, something moved beside me. I heard the snap of a twig and a slurp of water, so I turned my head to see what it was. And that’s when I saw it. The Swiftest. Or at least, I’m pretty sure he was the Swiftest.
“Why are you staring, Silly Child?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare.” I didn’t move or sit up. Part of me didn’t want to. The wind had such a soothing touch, and the sight of the blue sky had calmed me. But this creature beside me was beautiful. He had the body of a mountain lion and the tail of a fox. His head was long and narrow like a wolf, but it had a rack of bright silver antlers on its head.
“You act as you’ve never seen a blue wildebeest before.” He said to me as he lowered his shaggy head back down to drink some more.
It was true. I’d never seen a blue wildebeest before. I’d never seen a wildebeest period. I wasn’t sure what a wildebeest was. Was it a cat? A dog? Something in between? And so, I climbed off the bank of the creek and sat facing the wildebeest as he drank. His fur was the same color as the water he drank. A blue so bright that he might have been a piece of the sky above us that fell and became a beast.
“Well, you’re right. I haven’t. I haven’t seen a wildebeest, blue or red or yellow or purple. What is a wildebeest, Mister Wildebeest.”
“Please, just Wildebeest.” The large creature sat back on his paws, giving me a funny look. “A wildebeest is a wildebeest. Nothing more to it. We just are what we are. Like everyone else. We might look like one thing or another, but we aren’t anything other than wildebeests. There aren’t many of us these days, though. I might even be the last wildebeest.”
“Are you magic?”
“Aren’t you?” He asks me, smiling a fanged smile.
“Am I? I don’t think so. If I was magic, I’d just poof my way home.”
“Everyone and everything in the world is magic. And no magic is the same. Your magic isn’t my magic. My magic isn’t your magic.”
“Excuse me.” Mister butterfly flaps on over to land on the grass between Wildebeest and I. His purple wings glowed in the sunlight. “Are you the Swiftest, sir?”
“Hello, Mister Butterfly.” Wildebeest leaned down low to look at the little butterfly sitting in front of him. His silver nose glowed, just like Mister Butterfly’s wings.
‘They’re the same silver as the trees.’ I thought to myself, sitting quietly.
“Yes, I am the Swiftest. The one who runs the forest. But why do you ask?”
“It is the Silly Child. They need your help.”
Wildebeest lifted his shaggy blue head and looked at me. “Is that true? You need help?”
“Yes, Wildebeest. I need help. I need to leave the forest, you see. I left my home to come play in the snow, and that’s when I met Mister Fox. He invited me to a game of tag, and I thought that was a great idea. So, I chased Mister Fox through the snow and into this forest. But then I lost him in a grove of red pine trees. When I looked around, I didn’t know where I was. And that was when I met Miss Squirrel. She was very nice, and I asked her to help me get back home, but she was too busy gathering acorns for her family. But then she pointed me to a dead log, where I would find the animal who could help me. It was in the log that I met Mister Butterfly here.”
“Hello again.” Mister Butterfly said softly, fluttering his wings.
“And then, when I got to the top of the dead log, I was in Miss Owl’s nest. Did you know she lives above the whole forest? In the tallest tree, I think.”
Bedtime Stories for Kids Page 5