Bram’s Blizzard Boast — Under the winter pines, Bram packed one cranberry-red holly berry into his beak and set himself a very important challenge: make the silent snow giggle before the branch dripped three times. Read the full story →
Under the winter pines, Bram packed one cranberry-red holly berry into his beak and set himself a very important challenge: make the silent snow giggle before the branch dripped three times. Plip. One drop fell from the pine needles. Bram puffed his crest, tapped the branch with both feet, and made his best squirrel sneeze. “Chiff-choo!” The snow only whispered down, soft as flour.
Plip. Bram tried again. He bowed to the bare twigs, spun once, and flicked his tail so hard that loose powder puffed around his toes. A tiny round snowball bounced off a holly leaf. Then another. Then six more landed in a neat line, like an audience sitting down. Bram froze, his beak open.
The snowflakes had not been quiet at all. They were counting his jokes. Each starry flake that liked a trick became a little white clap on the branch. Bram laughed so loudly his chest shook, and the pines shook with him, sprinkling bright cold applause. If you spot the row of snow and berries near his feet, you’ll know where the giggle began before the branch dripped three times.
