Fern Finds a Way

Fern was a small fox with bright, careful eyes and a swishy, cinnamon tail. She liked to collect little useful things—soft string, smooth pebbles, a red scarf that fluttered like a tiny flag. She kept them in a leaf-green pouch and said, "Just in case!"

Today was Forest Fair day. The path to Sunny Meadow buzzed with happy footsteps. Bristle the badger rolled a barrel of apple cider. Pip the puppy balanced a basket of biscuits. Lark the bird carried a ribbon in her beak and sang, "Hurry, hurry, fun ahead!"

Fern trotted beside them, sniffing the crisp, sweet air. "Wouldn’t miss it!" she said, paws light on the mossy ground.

At the babbling brook, everyone stopped. The little wooden bridge was missing a plank in the middle. The water gurgled and splashed, too wide for a hop.

"Oh no," Pip whispered. The youngest bunny clutched a strawberry pie and trembled. Tully the turtle poked up his shiny head. "I can swim," he said, "but that pie can’t."

Fern peered downstream. There—caught in the cattails—was the runaway plank, bobbing like a sleepy fish. She tipped her head to one side. Ideas liked to come when she tipped her head.

"We can fix this," said Fern. She opened her pouch. Out came her red scarf, a loop of vine, and a smooth pebble. The pebble plopped into the water. "Not too deep," she nodded.

Bristle tugged a fallen branch to the bank. "This is heavy," he grunted.

"Perfect," said Fern. "Bristle, hold the branch so it points to the plank. Tully, can you guide it with your nose? I’ll toss the vine and make a loop. Lark, tell me if I’m close."

"Close! Closer! Got it!" Lark chirped as Fern swung the vine. The loop slipped around the wet, wandering board. Tully nudged it. Bristle braced his sturdy paws. Everyone grabbed the vine.

"Pull!" called Fern.

They pulled together—pull, pull, plop! The plank slid back to the bridge. Fern slid her smooth pebble under the edge like a little wedge, and Bristle pressed the branch to fit it snug.

"Try it," said Fern.

Pip stepped carefully. The board held. The bunny with the pie did a happy wiggle and crossed. Everyone cheered. "Fern found a way!" sang Lark.

They crossed in a line—paws, hooves, and little feet—over the steady board, and the brook went on chuckling underneath as if it had told a secret.

Sunny Meadow shone bright, green like a giant picnic blanket. Stalls popped up like mushrooms. Ribbons fluttered. The air smelled like cinnamon and clover. Just as Bristle set down the cider with a thump, a giggly wind whooshed through the grass.

"Whooooosh!"

The tall Welcome ribbon untied itself and flew like a long, laughing snake. It twirled up, up, and snagged high in the old oak tree.

"Our banner!" squeaked Lark.

"No ladder," said Bristle. "No long reach," said Tully, blinking.

Fern smiled. "I like windy puzzles," she said. She tied her red scarf to a light stick from the kite stall and held the other end of the scarf in her teeth. "Lark, can you guide me?"

"Left, a little! Now right! Up, up!" Lark chirped, circling the branch.

Fern ran gently with the breeze. The scarf fluttered and danced. It lifted, tickled, and hooked the tip of the welcome ribbon.

"Got you," Fern murmured. She slowed. The ribbon unwound from the branch and floated down in soft, curly loops. Pip caught the falling end with his paws.

Everyone clapped. "Games can start!" called Bristle, tying the ribbon low this time.

There were sack races and berry bun crumbs and a circle dance that made Tully laugh so hard his shell wiggled. Fern nibbled a biscuit and watched the bright meadow hum with friends and fun.

"You always find a way," Pip said, leaning against her.

"I like looking," Fern said. "When I look and listen, ideas pop like popcorn."

On the walk home, the brook chuckled its sunny song, and the path whispered under their paws. Fern tucked a tiny scrap of the welcome ribbon into her pouch, next to her smooth pebble and her red scarf.

Just in case.