The Snail on the Hosta Leaf

In a quiet little garden there lived a tiny snail. His name was Sigge. Sigge had a soft little house on his back. It was striped and beautiful. Now it was evening. The sky turned pink. Sigge looked up at a big hosta leaf. That was his bed.

Sigge stretched. He breathed slowly. In and out. In and out. 'Slowly, slowly,' he said to himself. 'Softly and safely.' He began to climb up onto the big leaf. The leaf was green and cool. It smelled like rain and moss.

The leaf was as big as a whole land for Sigge. There were hills and valleys in the leaf's veins. Sigge glided forward. Slowly, slowly. A little silver path shimmered behind him. That was his trail. 'Softly and safely,' he whispered. 'Softly and safely.'

Suddenly Sigge saw a dewdrop. It was round like a tiny marble. It glittered like glass. Sigge stopped and looked. The dew was gathering on the leaf. One drop. Two drops. Three. They were like little round crystals. Sigge smiled.

Sigge reached out his little feelers. He touched a dewdrop. Plop! It became an even smaller drop. Sigge laughed quietly. 'Hello, little drop,' he said. The drop twinkled. Then on he went. Slowly, slowly. Softly and safely.

The wind whispered in the garden. It was a soft wind. It stroked the hosta leaf. The leaf rocked a little. Sigge rocked too. Like a baby in a cradle. 'Aaaah,' sighed Sigge. He felt so calm. So safe. Already a little sleepy.

Sigge crept onward. Slowly, slowly. A shadow glided over the leaf. Sigge looked up. It was a moth. Big and silent. With wings soft as velvet. The moth flew around once. Then it was gone. 'Goodnight, moth,' whispered Sigge.

A little farther along, Sigge met a small beetle. The beetle was brown and shiny. He had walked all day. Now he was tired. 'Hello, Sigge,' said the beetle. 'Goodnight, little snail.' 'Goodnight, little beetle,' said Sigge. And both of them smiled.

The garden grew darker. The flowers closed their petals. The bees were already home in the hive. A cricket began to play. Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp. It sounded like a little song. A lullaby. Sigge listened. He breathed in the cricket's rhythm. In. Out. In. Out.