Gillian Kobiela Lyon

Once upon a time, there was a little squirrel. He lived in a treehouse on the top of a tall tree. The tall tree sat on top of a high hill.

Wintertime was very cold. The little squirrel tried to make his treehouse warmer by adding more sticks. When the snow began to fall, he tucked himself inside and thought. 'You know this year, I might just be alright.'

But the rain it was reckless as it tore through his tree. The freezing cold wind it blew endlessly.

The little squirrel shivered and he quivered in his little treehouse and dreamed of spring.

Then one day, it arrived. The little squirrel stretched and he scratched and he peered out of his little treehouse hatch.

"Ah, the sweet smell of spring!" He said to himself.

The daffodils were dazzling in the bright yellow sunshine. The lilac crocuses were quite spectacular. The green buds growing from the tree branches were glorious.

Two white doves flew down from the sky and landed on his tree.

“Hello, little squirrel, did you have a lovely winter nap?” They asked.

“Why no doves, it is very cold and lonely in my tree. The wind and the snow blew all around me. Now it is spring. I am very happy!”

The little squirrel bounced out of his tree and down onto his hill. The grass was green and soft and silk, but there was something unusual. Lots of tiny green sticks were poking out of it. The little squirrel crept cautiously towards them. He touched them with his paw. He sniffed them with his nose.

"Hmm. I don’t remember seeing those before." He said to himself. Then he quickly became distracted with thoughts of all the things that he must do. For squirrels are very busy creatures.

Springtime is busy with the delights of the new sunshine. Sniffing the ground in search of seeds. Nibbling tender buds that hang from the tree.

Summertime is busy with the bounty that it brings. Strawberries, brambles and lots of tasty things. Foraging, crunching, playing and jumping. Summer is a very special time.

Autumn is slower than summer and spring. A time for fixing, collecting and burying things.

Winter is quiet and frosty and cold. The clouds are all grey and full of snow. This is a time to stay warm and cosy, tucked up inside, cheeks nice and rosy.

The little squirrel wandered through the meadows that rolled beneath his hill. He danced through the daffodils. He lay upon the lush green grass and sniffed the ground in search of seeds. Looking around, he noticed more of the little green pointy things sticking up from the grass and wondered what they might be.

Summer arrived, with its flaming hot sun. The little squirrel rolled through the rhododendrons. He chatted to the chaffinches. He slurped the juice of the bright red strawberries. Sunbathing on his hill one evening, he saw that the little green pointy things had grown taller.

Summer left, and autumn arrived. Kind, with its colours of orange and red, it was a little cooler than summer. The little squirrel slurped the juice from the last of the beautiful purple brambles. He rolled less. He chatted less. He was busy searching, sniffing, climbing and collecting. When he had lots of tasty things, he scurried, dug and buried all over his hill.

"I will store my most favourite seeds and roots all over my hill so that I have lots of food for winter." He said to himself.

When the leaves began to fall from the trees, he decided to work on his little treehouse. Sitting upon it he scratched his head, for he was thinking hard about how he could make it warmer. The two white doves whom he had met before flapped from the sky above and landed beside him.

“Coo-coo! These are for you, little squirrel. We hope that they will help you to stay warm this winter!”

The doves placed soft white feathers in the little squirrel’s paw.

“Oh, your very own feathers? They are so soft, so warm, thank you doves, you are kind!”

“Thank you, little squirrel, for all that you do!”

The doves flew off into the grey winter sky. The little squirrel didn’t know what they were thanking him for, but he was glad of the nice warm feathers. As he jumped into his treehouse and pulled the feathers all around him, a cold and icy winter wind began to blow.

The little squirrel shivered and quivered beneath his pile of feathers. He was glad that he had stored some acorns, for it was too cold to go outside. He nibbled and he napped and he dreamed of spring.

Then one day, it arrived. The little squirrel stretched and he scratched and he peered out of his little treehouse hatch.

"Ah, the sweet smell of spring!" He said to himself.

The daffodils were dazzling in the bright yellow sunshine. The lilac crocuses were quite spectacular. The green buds growing from the tree branches were glorious.

The little squirrel hopped out of his treehouse and down onto his hill. He was skipping happily towards the meadow when 'thwack!' he walked right into something!

"Owch!" He exclaimed, rubbing his head. A big, green stick was poking up from the grass. He touched it with his paw. He sniffed it with his nose. Looking around his hill, he could see that there were more big green sticks.

"What could they be?" He said to himself, then he bounded off through the grass, for he had many things to do.

He rummaged in the undergrowth and rooted out a snack. He cartwheeled through the cornflowers, then he had a nap. He lay in the shade of the frilly ferns, chatting to the foxes beside their dens.

“Hello, little squirrel. Did you have a lovely winter nap?” Asked the foxes.

“Why no, foxes. It is so very cold up in my little treehouse. The doves gave me soft, warm feathers. I wrapped myself up in them, but still, my nose was frozen by the winter frost.”

Spring turned to summer, and the little squirrel was busy playing, dancing, munching and slurping.

As he sat by the side of his tree, lazing in the late-night sun and he could see that the green sticks had grown taller. It was not just the big green sticks that were puzzling the little squirrel. For at the bottom of his hill, little green shoots were appearing.

Summer turned to autumn. The little squirrel played less and chatted less. He searched and scurried. He dug and buried. "I will store all of my favourite seeds and roots so that I have plenty to eat in wintertime." He said to himself.

As autumn began to turn to winter, the little squirrel climbed atop his treehouse and thought about how he could make it warmer. As he was adding more sticks, he heard a shout from down below.

“Squirrel! Come here!” It was the foxes. He hopped from his treehouse and down to his hill.

“Please, little squirrel, take this gift from us. We hope that it will keep you nice and warm.”

The foxes lay some fur upon the little squirrel’s paws.

“Oh, foxes! Some of your very own fur! This will surely keep me warm this winter. Thank you, you are kind!”

“Thank you, little squirrel, for all that you do for us.”

The little squirrel did not know what he had done. "I suppose they mean they like our little chats." He said to himself.

Just as he got tucked into his little treehouse and pulled the fur over him, a freezing cold gust of wind blew all around his little house. He shivered, and he quivered, huddled in a muddle of sticks and feathers and fur. He was glad that he had brought some berries with him, for it was far too cold to leave his treehouse. He nibbled and he napped and he dreamed of spring.

Then one day it arrived. The little squirrel stretched and he scratched and he peered out of his little treehouse hatch.

"Ah, the sweet smell of spring!" He said to himself.

The daffodils were dazzling in the bright yellow sunshine. The lilac crocuses were quite spectacular. The green buds growing from the tree branches were glorious.

The little squirrel sprang excitedly down onto his hill, but what was this? He nearly bumped into a big brown stick! “Who put that there?” He yelled but nobody answered. He had to be careful where he stepped; for now, there were big brown sticks, little green sticks and lots of green shoots sticking out all over his hill. Still, he had many things to do, so off he went. He danced through the daises, bounced through the buttercups then found a sunny spot by the brook where he frolicked with the frogs.

“Did you have a lovely winter nap?” Croaked the frogs.

“Why no, dear frogs I did not. It is so very cold up in my tree. The doves gave me feathers to keep me warm. The foxes gave me fur to keep my cosy, but still, the hail and the wind, they howled all around me and my poor paws were frozen.”

Spring turned to summer, and the little squirrel ate greedily and chatted happily. Though he couldn’t help noticing the sticks and the shoots were getting bigger.

Summer turned to autumn and the little squirrel searched and scurried, dug and buried.

"I shall bury all of my favourite seeds and roots so that I shall have lots to eat over the wintertime." He said to himself.

As autumn began to turn to winter, the little squirrel decided he must try to make his treehouse warmer. He was sitting on it scratching his head when he heard a loud croaking noise from below.

“Dear squirrel, come down here!” It was the frogs. So the little squirrel jumped from his treehouse onto his hill.

“This is for you, we hope that it will help to keep you nice and snug this winter.” The frogs placed a pile of thick fluffy moss into the squirrel’s paw.

“Why thank you frogs, your very own moss! This will keep me nice and snug! You are so kind.”

“Thank you, little squirrel, for all that you do.” Croaked the frogs as they hopped back to the brook.

The little squirrel did not know what he had done. "They must mean that they liked my frolicking." He said to himself. Just as the little squirrel had finished adding the moss to the sticks and the feathers and the fur, an icy rain began to fall all around his hill.

He shivered and he quivered, huddled in a muddle of sticks and feathers, moss and fur.

"Thank goodness I brought some acorns with me, for it is far too cold to go outside." He said to himself. He nibbled and napped, and dreamed of spring.

Then one day, it arrived. The little squirrel stretched and he scratched and he peered out from his little treehouse hatch.

"Ah, the sweet smell of spring!" He said to himself.

The daffodils were dazzling in the bright yellow sunshine. The lilac crocuses were quite spectacular. The green buds growing from the tree branches were glorious. The grass was green and covered in giant big brown sticks!

The little squirrel gasped and jumped excitedly from his tree.

"What are those?" He said. He sniffed one with his nose. He touched it with his paw. "Why this smells like a tree!" He exclaimed. Full of excitement, he bounded off down the hill in search of some breakfast. The grass was thick with giant brown sticks and green sticks. The little squirrel sat down and snacked on a tender spring shoot, gazing in wonder at all the new things before him.

Spring turned to summer and the sticks and the shoots grew taller and thicker. Lots of new wildflowers and berries grew. The little squirrel feasted on wild strawberries. He drank the juice of succulent brambles. He lay beneath a canopy of creamy clover and chatted with some bees.

“Oh little squirrel, you have a beautiful home. It is so full of pretty flowers.”

“Yes it is bees, but in the winter, it is so dreadfully cold up in my tree. The doves gave me feathers, the foxes gave me fur, the frogs gave me moss, but still, my fur is frozen."

Summer turned to autumn, and the little squirrel searched and scurried, dug and buried throughout the meadow and along the banks of the little brook.

As autumn began to turn to winter, he sat in his treehouse and wondered how he might make his little treehouse warmer. A buzzing noise came from outside. It was the bees.

“Little squirrel! We have a gift for you!” They placed a big piece of sweet sticky honeycomb in the little squirrel’s paw.

“Why thank you bees! This honeycomb is just what I need! It will fill the holes in my treehouse, and it will taste yummy! You are so kind!”

“Thank you, little squirrel, for all that you do for us.” Said the bees as they buzzed away.

"I don't know why they are thanking me. Perhaps they liked our little chat" He said to himself. Just as the little squirrel finished adding the honeycomb to his little treehouse, a ghastly gale blew all over his hill. He shivered and he quivered in his little treehouse. "Oh, thank goodness that I have the honeycomb from the bees, for it is far too cold outside for me!" So he nibbled and he napped and he dreamed of spring.

When winter at long last turned to spring, he stretched and he scratched and he peered out of his little treehouse hatch.

Oh, what joy! What beauty he did see!

The daffodils were dazzling in the bright yellow sunshine. The lilac crocuses were quite spectacular. The green buds growing from the tree branch were glorious. The grass was green and full of little trees!

The little squirrel jumped excitedly from his treehouse and onto his hill. "What beautiful trees!" he exclaimed as he bounced amongst them.

Spring turned to summer and all around the hill and the meadow things grew and bloomed. There were oak trees, bracken, bluebells and wild gooseberries. The little squirrel danced happily through the undergrowth. He snoozed beneath the hot sun. He gorged on the gooseberries.

Summer turned to autumn and the little squirrel searched and scurried, dug and buried. Watching the sunset one evening, he blethered to some badgers.

“Little squirrel, this is a splendid hill. You are so very lucky!”

“Yes, but every winter, it becomes so very cold in my tree. The doves gave me feathers. The foxes gave me fur. The frogs gave me moss. The bees gave me their honeycomb. Yet still, every winter I feel a terrible chill.”

As autumn began to turn to winter, the little squirrel wondered if all of the new trees might help keep him warm this winter. He was sitting on his treehouse thinking when he heard some grunting down below.

“Oi, little squirrel! Come down here!” It was the badgers.

So the little squirrel bounced out of his little treehouse and down onto the hill.

“These are for you. They will make a lovely soft bed. It's our way of saying thank you.” The badgers placed a pile of dried leaves in the little squirrel’s paw.

“Why thank you badgers, you are very kind, but what are you thank me for?"

The badgers began to laugh.

“Oh badgers, please, everybody keeps thanking me and I do not know what I have done. And who has been planting all of these trees?”

The badgers were laughing so loud, that the doves and the foxes and the frogs and the bees and every other creature came to see.

“Oh doves, won’t you tell me, who has been planting all of these trees?”

“Why you have.” Said the doves.

“I have?”

“Yes, every year you search and you scurry and you dig and you bury seeds and roots. And now a little forest is growing. Thank you, little squirrel. We need trees to build our nests.”

“We like lots of ferns to hide our dens.” Said the foxes.

“Us too.” Said the badgers.

“We like lots of shade around our brook, where we can hop and stretch our legs in peace.” Said the frogs.

“We like lots of flowers, we need the nectar.” Said the bees.

“And us!” Shouted some passing butterflies.

“We like lots of berries to eat!” Added some mice.

“Thank you, little squirrel, thank you.” They all said.

“Oh, how wonderful! Our very own forest! You have all been so kind. I do hope that you will stay in this forest with me, for you are all terrific friends!”

The little squirrel hurried up to his treehouse, and he lay the dried leaves between his sticks and his feathers and his moss and his fur and his honeycomb.

Outside, it began to snow. The little squirrel peered out of his little treehouse hatch. On the tree in front of him, the doves made their nest. “Coo-coo,” they said and waved their wings. On the tree behind him, the chaffinches sat, all curled up and cosy, in their nest for a nap. In the tree right behind him, nobody lived but the branches did shelter, his home from the wind. To the front he looked out, to see something move, a bright red bushy tail, and the tip of a nose. A squirrel peered out from behind her new nest, she smiled and she waved, and his heart was melted.

With forest and food and new friends in his sight, he smiled and he said "You know this year, I might be alright!"