WEBVTT

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The world was still waking up, draped in

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the cool, silver haze of a spring morning.

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Barnaby emerged from his burrow, his whiskers catching

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the first golden slants of light that pierced

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through the tall, rhythmic swaying of the meadow

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grass.

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He stood on his hind legs for a

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moment, his nose twitching rhythmically, sampling the sweet,

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damp air for the scent of clover.

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He hopped cautiously into the clearing, where every

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blade of grass was adorned with a single,

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trembling dew drop.

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As he moved, his soft fur brushed against

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the clover patches, sending tiny prisms of light

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scattering like spilled diamonds.

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It was a perfect breakfast. The clover was

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crisp, cold, and tasted of the earth's hidden

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sweetness.

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He paused between bites, his ears swiveling to

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catch the distant melody of a waking lark,

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enjoying the absolute stillness that only a new

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day can provide.

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The sun climbed higher, warming his back and

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turning the meadow into a vibrant tapestry of

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green.

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Satisfied, and with a belly full of dew

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-kissed greens, Barnaby retreated toward the shade of

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a nearby thicket.

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He gave his ears one final, content flick,

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settling into a patch of soft clover to

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watch the shadows lengthen, perfectly at home in

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the quiet magic of the morning.