The Hedgehog Who Wanted to Sleep

The sun was going down, low and warm and golden. Deep in the green wood, it was time for small creatures to go to sleep.

Little Barnaby the hedgehog curled his tiny paws. He opened his mouth and gave a very big yawn. Yaaawn. It was time for bed.

Barnaby shuffled under a tall, leafy fern. Rustle, rustle, rustle.

“Ah,” said Barnaby. “This looks like a lovely spot.”

But just as he closed his eyes, a little brown bird landed on a branch above. Chirp, chirp, tweet, tweet! sang the bird.

“Oh dear,” whispered Barnaby softly. “Too noisy for a sleepy hedgehog.”

So Barnaby trundled over to the old oak tree. Pitter, patter, pitter, patter went his tiny feet on the soft green moss.

He snuggled close to the smooth wooden trunk.

Squeak, squeak! called two little field mice, playing tag in the roots.

Barnaby smiled, but he gave another slow yawn. Yaaawn.

“Oh dear,” whispered Barnaby. “Too busy for a sleepy hedgehog.”

Barnaby walked a little further, slowly now, under the glowing evening sky.

He found a hill made of soft, dry autumn leaves. Red leaves, orange leaves, and deep golden brown leaves.

Barnaby tiptoed to the middle of the leaf pile.

He turned round once. Tuck.

He turned round twice. Curl.

He nestled down deep into the warm, quiet leaves.

He listened carefully.

The little bird had gone to sleep. Shh.

The tiny field mice were tucked in tight. Shh.

The gentle night wind blew softly through the tall trees. Swoosh, swoosh, whisper.

Barnaby let out a long, quiet breath. Huuuuh.

“Ah,” whispered Barnaby. “Just right.”

His heavy eyelids fluttered down. His small round nose tucked into his furry tummy. He was so warm, so safe, and so cosy.

The stars came out, twinkling softly in the dark blue sky.

Goodnight, wood.

Goodnight, leaves.

Goodnight, little Barnaby. Sleep tight.

The End