Nino and the Quiet Meadow

In a soft green place at the edge of the woods, a little deer named Nino lay in his nest of warm grass. The grass was soft. The grass was warm. Nino was small and cozy and safe.

The evening was slow and gold. A gentle breeze moved over the meadow. It smelled like flowers and rain and clean leaves. Nino breathed it in. He let it out, slow and easy.

Hush now, hush now, said the breeze.

Nino blinked his sleepy eyes. A tiny white feather floated by. It turned and tumbled, slow as a dream. Nino watched it drift over the grass. He wondered where it wanted to go.

So Nino stood up on his soft little legs. He gave a small, slow stretch. Then he walked into the quiet meadow to see.

The grass tickled his hooves, soft and cool. Tiny flowers nodded as he passed. Each one was closing up for the night. They folded their petals like little hands. Goodnight, flowers, Nino whispered.

The feather floated low. Nino followed, slow and soft. He came to a little stream. The water moved with a gentle sound. Trickle, trickle, slow and low. It sounded like a lullaby made of water.

Nino dipped one hoof in the cool. He looked up at the sky. The clouds were soft and pink and gray. One looked just like a sleepy rabbit. One looked like a pillow. Nino smiled a small, dreamy smile.

A round friend sat by the water. It was Pim the capybara, resting on the bank. Pim was warm and soft and slow. He yawned a great big yawn.

Hello, Nino, said Pim. I am looking for my cozy spot.

The feather had landed in the soft moss nearby. Right by Pim was a bed of green moss. It looked as soft as a cloud. There, said Nino, pointing with his nose. That looks cozy and warm.

Pim settled into the moss. Oh, he sighed. This is just right. Thank you, little Nino. Pim's eyes grew heavy and slow.

The sky was turning soft and deep. The gold was gone. The blue grew dark and kind. Nino felt a yawn come up. He let it come, slow and wide.

The breeze grew soft and softer still. The flowers were all asleep now. The stream sang on, quiet and low. Trickle, trickle, hush, hush, hush.

It is time to go home, thought Nino. So he turned, slow and sleepy, and padded back through the cool grass.

Above him, a tiny light blinked on. It was the first star, small and silver. Hello, star, Nino whispered. The star seemed to twinkle just for him.

Then another star came out. And another, soft and slow. The sky filled up with quiet light. Nino walked beneath them, calm and small.

His nest was waiting in the warm grass. The grass was soft. The grass was warm. Nino curled himself into a little round shape. He tucked his nose beneath his leg.

The moon rose, big and round and pale. It laid a soft light over everything. Over the meadow. Over the stream. Over the moss where Pim now slept.

Nino looked up one last time. So many stars. So soft and far. They blinked at him, slow and kind. Goodnight, stars, he breathed.

His eyes grew heavy. His breathing slowed. The breeze hushed low across the grass. Hush now, hush now, little one.

The meadow was quiet. The night was warm. Everything was soft and still. Nino was safe in his cozy nest.

His eyes closed. His breath went slow. A small, sweet dream came drifting in. It smelled like flowers and clean night air.

Sleep now, Nino. Sleep now, dear. The stars are watching over you. The moon is soft. The grass is warm.

Goodnight, little deer. Goodnight.