By David Porter

Once upon a Lilly pad lived two young frogs, Jasper and Horace. They lived around the crescent pond at Windmill Farm. You know it, – the one on the left at the end of the long and winding country lane. At the side of the apple orchard where you used to go scrumping for apples.

Jasper and Horace had met as young tadpoles, grown up together, grown legs together and were like two peas in a pod. Sort of green and round in shape, bursting to get out and about into the wider world.

They shared a passion for mischief, nothing too naughty though, the farm birds had noticed. It will all end in tiers hooted the wise old owl, who seemed to like the frog friend duo.

One summer’s day while hopping around, looking for their next adventure, one of the frog chums spotted a chance to explore the big silver tower. The tower that had been brought in and out of the shed, the shed that made strange noises when the big black and white frogs went inside. At the side of the tower was a wooden vertical frame, separated by horizontal jumping platforms – a ladder I can hear you say.

Come on Horace, we can jump up and see what is inside the tower, Jasper tempted. I don’t know if I want to Horace replied, obviously apprehensive about what they may find. Being a frog pleaser by nature Horace followed Jasper as they vaulted rung after rung, two amphibian astronauts heading for take-off.

With one final leap they landed on the rim of the tower. Below them was a sea of tranquillity, a new white pond like no frog had ever seen. One small leap for frog, but a giant leap for frog-kind yelled Jasper

In he jumped, basking in the coolness of the mellow liquid. Horace obviously followed, frog pleasing yet again. After a few minutes Jasper decided he’d had enough of the milky taste of the new pond and decided to get out. In an instant he cried out to Horace quick we need to get out I’m sinking. He would have been up to his neck in it, if frogs had necks.

Horace quickly realised they were trapped, with no way obvious of getting out of their predicament. Keep kicking Jasper, we’ll need to think of something quickly he croaked.

I can’t replied Jasper, it’s impossible. I can’t think of anything else other than to just give up.

Horace kicked and kicked, like a bucking bronco at a Wild West rodeo. Jasper rolled over, accepting the inevitable consequences for them both. Undeterred Horace kicked, and kicked, and kicked again until something slowly started to happen. The milk curdled and became heavy on the young frogs legs. Determined they wouldn’t end up as a cheesy delicacy, he whisked up more effort and eventually felt the milk turn into layers of something, cheese like Lilly pads began to emerge. Horace jumped onto the first one, exhausted by his efforts.

He looked behind, and without a moment of thought pulled Jasper on to the next one.

Horace, chest puffed out, looked around. Hard cheese to quitters he thought

Jasper and Horace were both able to leap out of their predicament onto their next adventure. Jasper followed whilst Horace led the way…

I said it would all end in layers said the wise old owl ………..

By Clive Howey

In the Serengeti grasslands a group of elephants wandered wild and free. They had lived in here for generations and considered it their homeland. They knew each tuft, watering hole and tree, each contour and each day, they followed the same, well-trodden paths to find food and water and a place to sunbathe. The paths were rocky and hard underfoot and the scrub to which they led was bitter and dry. There was never any place to wallow and sunbathe. Yet their instinct was to follow their traditions and beliefs and, even when they observed other groups exploring alternative routes and returning contented and soaked, they stuck to their well-established habits without noticing how arduous, unpleasant and dreary their days had become.

A baby elephant from the family had been drawn away from the usual trodden route by the sound of other families splashing in water, a faint sound which sparked interest and curiosity. She followed the sounds and, before long, found a green, sun bathed water hole with no crocodiles or other predators. She noticed how this awoke all her positive feelings and she settled into her new surroundings and as she wallowed and splashed in the water, absorbing the singing sounds of birds, the joyous sounds of other animals and the breeze blowing by. The young elephant noticed how relaxed and energetic she felt and returned to her family, as usual, treading the same paths, dirty, hungry and fed up. She ran as fast as she could when she saw them, telling all of the new place she had found with all its gifts and riches.  When she saw her mother, she felt overwhelming triumph and pride. All the family wished to find and see this new place.  I will take you now, said the baby but at first, she felt an enormous sense of trepidation and fear.

As they set off and ventured further down the new path she had found, she began to feel more confident but at the same time, calm.  Eventually, they arrived and all basked in the sun, swimming happily and feasting on the vegetation which surrounded the area.  The baby sensed her pride at what she had found, and pride flowed through her as she watched her family and friends happy in their new surroundings.

By Helen Duckworth

Once upon a time, there was a forest: a beautiful and serene place.  In that forest, there was an ancient, majestic Oak.  It was the tallest tree in the forest and one of a kind because it could sing!  The tree had first sung 70 years ago and hadn’t stopped since.  He sung to the birds, his fellow trees and the Sun.  He sung in a slow, low, precise voice – as you would expect any tree to sing in.

Then one day the gorgeous silver Birch nearby started singing too.  She sung in a quiet quavering voice, barely audible over the wind.  The Oak was astonished!  He thought he was alone, the only one.  At last, he had a friend to sing with.  He would sing as loud as possible and show her how to do it.  And that’s exactly what he did!

But the louder he sung, the quieter her voice became.  He couldn’t understand it.  Soon she sang so quietly that he couldn’t even hear her anymore.  This crushed the Oak, he wanted a friend to sing with so badly.  He was so disheartened, he stopped singing and the forest grew quiet for the first time in 70 years.  It was like some of the magic had gone out of the forest, flowers’ heads drooped and there seemed to be permanent clouds in the sky.

…

Slowly, gently, a beautiful voice rose out of the silence, a light Soprano completely different to the voice of the Oak but just as magnificent.  The birds were captivated and started to sing too.  Soon the forest was alive with the sound of their voices.

The Oak stood there, amazed.  The music was heaven to him, he wanted to join in but he was afraid.  What if the Birch and the birds stopped singing again?  He couldn’t cope with losing them again.  What should he do?  But how could he not join in?

As he thought, he listened.  Listened to the solos of the Birch and of the birds and to the choir as a whole.  How their voices joined together and heard those moments when his low pitch would have added great depth and beauty to the song.

When he was ready, when the moment was right, he drew his courage to him and in a soft voice began to sing again.

By Deborah Garnett

There was once a red squirrel who lived deep in a wood. It was autumn and she was busy gathering acorns and hazelnuts.

For weeks as she busily ran up and down branches, red squirrel had noticed the leaves change colour to radiant orange and gold and eventually fall off and flutter to the ground.

The other animals could not understand why red squirrel was so lively. They were happy to sit around and admire the beautiful trees.

Red squirrel became concerned that her friends were not preparing for the cold, spare, empty time to come. She wanted to tell them what all squirrels know and that is to store up food for the winter, but she was unsure they would pay her any attention.

So, in preparation for the woodland meeting, red squirrel approached great stag and asked if he would use his authority to impress on the others the importance of preparing for winter.

At the woodland meeting, as all the creatures were gathered chatting, great stag raised himself up to his full height. With his chest puffed out and antlers raised high, he barked out orders for all the animals to wake at dawn the next day and work until nightfall to bring in the harvest. They were stunned into silence as the great stag roared out his message and some fell over into a terrified faint.

The next day, only red squirrel rose at dawn to continue the search for food.

Red squirrel became more concerned that her friends were not preparing for the cold, spare, empty time to come. She wanted to tell them what all squirrels know and that is to store up food for the winter, but she was unsure they would pay her any attention.

So, in preparation for the next woodland meeting, red squirrel approached fox and asked if she would use her cleverness to impress on the others the importance of preparing for winter.

At the meeting, as all the creatures were gathered chatting, fox appeared wearing her professor’s gown and spectacles. She pointed with her twig to charts and graphs, showing all sorts of facts and figures about why the animals should wake at dawn the next day and work until nightfall to bring in the harvest. They were stunned into silence by the end of the presentation and some fell over from sheer boredom.

The next day, only red squirrel rose at dawn to continue the search for food.

Red squirrel became increasingly concerned and so approached wise owl for advice. Wise owl told red squirrel that the message should come directly from red squirrel herself. Red squirrel said that she wasn’t sure what to say or whether the others would pay her any attention. Wise owl replied; “When the time comes, you will know exactly what to say and how to say it and they will understand and appreciate your message.”

At the next meeting, as all the creatures were gathered chatting together under a mighty oak, red squirrel began by saying; “My dear friends, as you are sitting here, you will be wondering what I, red squirrel can have to say to you.” With tears in her eyes, red squirrel reminded them of how they had gone hungry the previous winter and that she was concerned the same would happen again. She entreated them to work together to bring in the harvest and that if they did so, all would be well.

When she had finished and having dried her eyes, the other animals came up to red squirrel and thanked and hugged her and shook her paw.

The next day, red squirrel and all the forest animals rose at dawn to search for food.

I

By Gill Martin

Once there was a beautiful, flourishing garden which was adorned with rows and rows of juicy vegetables, trees and bushes which were laden with ripe fruits and berries.  The old gardener had invested a lot of his time and money into his garden.  He was planned and methodical in his approach, the watering system drenched the plants with fine bursts of dew as regular as clockwork, whilst the electric fence stood guard against unwanted four-legged intruders and fine netting wrapped the fruit bushes in a protective hold.  Every inch of the space was planned to perfection and the old man was proud as punch of what he had achieved.

The garden produce, along with the eggs from his wife’s chickens, provided a decent living for the gardener and his wife.

One Spring gardener fell very ill and was too sick to attend to his garden or go to market. The garden went untouched for many, many weeks, during which time the rabbits cottoned on to the fact that the gardener wasn’t around and dug under the fence and started to feast on the vegetables.

From that point everything started to go downhill.

The weeds started to take over the vegetable patches, strangling the growth of the young seedlings and drinking all the water so they couldn’t grow

The netting became insecure and lifted from the fruit bushes allowing insects to plunge into the ripe fruits and berries.

The chickens were terrified and stopped laying eggs as they were too frightened to come out of their coop as foxes began to creep under the fence and roam the garden.

Perched on the gable end of the shed, a wise owl sat and watched the disarray that had become of the garden – knowing how disappointed the gardener would be as his pride and joy was being so openly abused.

‘I suggest you stop and think how you are all behaving and the potential consequences of your actions’

The wildlife heckled back at the owl, ranting about the controlling old man and how they were finally able to enjoy freedom. The rowdy group became louder and more rebellious, arguing amongst themselves!  The Wise Owl flapped his wings up high to a bid to regain their attention ‘since you all have different views of this garden’ said the owl ‘why not share your thoughts and concerns …..but please speak to each other in a respectful manner’.  The garden fell so silent you could hear a pin drop – …. ‘what’s your view of this situation ‘he asked’ pointing at one of the weeds…

The angry looking weed replied ‘well at least we now get a chance to grow where we want instead of being ripped out and thrown on the compost heap. What a way to end up – it makes us feel worthless’.

The lazy caterpillar who lay stretched out on a cabbage leaf said ‘don’t worry yourself Mr Owl, I won’t be sticking around for too long!  I’ll chomp through this lot so I’m stuffed full, then I’ll get my head down for a bit and grow myself some wings; when I wake up I’ll be off to see the world!

The greedy sparrows chirped “we’re not complaining, there are loads more big fat insects than there used to be.  We have growing families to feed! The caterpillar gave a nervous laugh and quickly retreated into the darkness of the undergrowth.

The rabbits raised their heads from the lettuce patch and said ‘we can have heaps more lettuce, far better quality than what’s usually left on the compost heap, glancing over at the weeds!    ‘How rude!’ replied a dandelion.

The potatoes, carrots and beetroot were under the ground listening intently to the conversations above their heads – ‘blimey, it’s a bit of a war zone up there’ said one of the jersey royals, but I think if we keep our heads down and ride it out, we’ll be ok”.  At that point a brave little carrot spoke up.  “I can’t believe you all.  Apart from the fact that none of you will probably ever see the light of day at this rate, if you do nothing you’ll over grow, split and start to rot.   Don’t you see that our fellow comrades are under attack up there! Will none of you stand up and speak out?  We’re all in this together! And with that he asked a passing worm to give him a big shove, and the little carrot pushed up through the earth and popped his head up above the soil.

Blinking at the bright sunlight and feeling the fresh air for the first time, the little carrot took a moment or two to adjust and compose himself then, in the most authoritative voice a carrot of his size could muster, he shouted “the biggest losers are all the fruits and vegetables!  Either way we get eaten but with the gardener at least we get a chance to be respected, nurtured and appreciated so we can grow big and healthy.   Without us you wouldn’t have a garden to enjoy!  Think how sad he’ll be if he were to see his garden now. What if he never comes back to plant more of us; he’s unwell and he’s not getting any younger.  What if it’s too much work for him to get the garden back into shape.  I think you are all being extremely selfish!

The wildlife looked at each other and the penny finally dropped “the little fella is right’ said a rabbit, “if this free for all carries on then the garden will be destroyed and once this is gone, it’s gone for good”.

So the weeds, caterpillars, sparrows and rabbits got there heads together and began to make a plan, with a few compromises thrown in for good measure.

The weeds grew but only round the edges of the garden.

The insects agreed to stay off the vegetables and only to eat the fallen fruits which covered the ground.

The sparrows made patrols of the garden, eating any insects which broke the rules and strayed onto the growing fruits and vegetables.

The rabbits stayed off the main vegetable patches, again eating the fallen fruits and berries whilst guarding the perimeter fences so they could alert the chickens to the unwanted presence of any devilish foxes.

The chickens began to relax and started to lay eggs again which pleased the gardener’s wife, as she could make tasty omelettes to help the gardener regain his strength.

After a few weeks the gardener felt as ‘fit as a fiddle’ and well enough to return to his garden.  He was pleased to see things were not as chaotic and overridden as he had imagined.  He went back to work, maintaining the garden and planting more crops with even more growing success than what he previously achieved; this pleased the old gardener knowing that he still had green fingers.  With a spring in his step and a whistle while he worked, he prepared the produce for market, much to the amusement of the wildlife who continued with the ‘behind the scenes’ teamwork to help the old man maintain his garden, their home.