One morning, Oscar woke up with a cold nose.
He tucked it beneath his paw.
Then something tapped against the window.
Tap.
Tap, tap.
Oscar opened one eye.
Tiny white specks were floating outside.
He sat up so quickly that his blanket slipped onto the floor.
“Someone has shaken a pillow over the garden!”
Oscar put on his scarf and hurried outside.
A snowflake landed on his nose.
He crossed his eyes to look at it.
It disappeared.
“Oh,” he whispered. “A shy one.”
He lifted a paw to catch another.
That one disappeared too.
Oscar looked up at the sky.
“How am I supposed to meet you if you keep doing that?”
From the fence came a cheerful chirp.
“Try standing still!”
A little robin was watching him.
“I am standing still,” said Oscar.
“Your tail isn’t.”
Oscar glanced behind him. His tail was swishing excitedly.
“That part of me has other ideas.”
The robin fluttered down beside him.
“My name is Pip. Is this your first snow?”
Oscar nodded.
“Does it always fall so quietly?”
“Usually.”
Oscar listened.
The garden sounded different. The leaves no longer rustled beneath the hedge, and the path wore a thin white coat.
He took one careful step.
Crunch.
Oscar jumped.
Pip tilted his head.
“What happened?”
“The ground answered me!”
Oscar tried again.
Crunch, crunch.
Soon he was marching across the garden, making the longest trail of paw prints he could.
Then he stopped.
Another trail crossed his own.
Tiny marks led beneath the bench.
Oscar crouched.
“Pip,” he whispered, “someone has been here.”
“Yes,” said Pip.
“Someone small.”
“Yes.”
“With very unusual feet.”
Pip hopped forward and left two fresh prints.
Oscar stared at them.
Then at Pip.
“Oh.”
“An excellent bit of detective work,” said the robin.
Oscar gave his scarf a dignified tug.
“I was nearly there.”
Beyond the bench, snow had gathered on a fallen leaf. Oscar nudged it with his nose.
The leaf slid down a little slope.
Oscar’s ears pricked up.
He nudged it again.
Whoosh!
It skimmed across the snow and stopped beside the flowerpot.
“A boat!” cried Oscar.
“A leaf,” said Pip.
“A snow boat.”
Oscar placed one paw on it.
Then another.
The leaf tipped sideways.
Oscar rolled into the snow with all four paws in the air.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
Then Pip began to chirp with laughter.
Oscar sat up. A little mound of snow rested between his ears.
“Did it work?” he asked.
“You travelled about the length of your whiskers.”
“A short voyage,” said Oscar. “But a brave one.”
He shook himself.
Snow scattered everywhere.
Pip fluttered onto the bench just in time.
“Please announce your next snowstorm!”
Oscar laughed. Then he noticed Pip peering beneath the bench.
“What are you looking for?”
“Seeds. I dropped a few here yesterday.”
Oscar looked at the white ground.
The snow had covered everything.
He gently brushed a patch with his paw. Beneath it lay a brown leaf, a small twig…
And three tiny seeds.
“Breakfast!” chirped Pip.
Oscar kept clearing the snow while Pip searched behind him.
When they finished, a little patch of garden showed through beneath the sheltered bench.
Pip pecked at the last seed.
“Thank you.”
Oscar smiled.
His paws were cold now, and his whiskers sparkled with droplets.
From the house came the soft rattle of his breakfast bowl.
He turned towards the door.
Then he looked back at the garden.
Two trails crossed the snow: one made of little paw prints, the other of tiny bird tracks.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Oscar asked.
Pip settled on the fence.
“Will you?”
Oscar glanced at his overturned snow boat.
“I have another voyage to attempt.”
At the doorstep, one last snowflake landed on his scarf.
This time, it stayed long enough for him to see its delicate points.
“Hello,” Oscar whispered.
Then it melted into a tiny shining drop.
Oscar slipped inside, carrying the drop on his scarf and leaving four wet paw prints across the floor.
The End
If you joined Oscar in the snow, what would you explore first?
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