The Garden

The Garden was green.

And blue. And red and orange and yellow. And he loved it.

The little bug crept along the stem of a sunflower, it’s small feet warmed by the thrum of life, a faint humming almost, indistinct to most, humans included. The vibrations tickled the underside of his feet and he struggled to contain his giggles.

As he wound his way higher he rose above the fields of grass, ascending beyond the reach of their blades, and he could see a large part of the Garden. To one side the flower beds bloomed and beamed colour across his vision, a cacophony of tulips and fuchsia, of pansies and sweet peas. The little bug’s smile grew wider as he continued searching.

Across the way a small pond glistened in the morning sun. As he watched he could see the faint dipping of water that eluded to the hungry fish below. Reeds alongside its shore cricketted in the soft wind, a-swishing and a-swashing.

A light buzzing stirred the Little Bug from his morning splendor and he scurried further up the stalk to watch the insect in its striped pyjamas gather pollen. He smiled again, knowing that a delightful round of honey would soon be delivered to the Neighbours of the Garden. Little Bug loved honey. It was magically sweet, and sticky and his favourite treat in the whole of the Garden. The Little Bug waved farewell to Bee and scurried down from the sunflower.

He wandered through the forest of grass, loving the sway of greenery as he passed through it. The soil underfoot crunched lightly as he passed over it and as he rested he decided to nibble on some, for he was hungry and had not yet had breakfast. The soft bitter taste was welcome, its gravely texture and earthy tones lingered on his tongue as he continued on his way with a full belly. The Garden provides, he thought happily.

As he went by, he could hear the singsong of the Birds chirping from the Garden wall, and he hummed along, pausing only to greet his friends as he came upon them. “Hullo Earthworm”, “Good morning Centipede, my how splendid your shoes are looking this morning”, and many more ‘good mornings’ and ‘hellos’ were exchanged on the Little Bug’s morning walk.

But his absolute bestest friend was Ladybird. He weaved his way to the edge of the Garden where long shoots of ivy wound their way up and over the Wall. He found her sitting merrily, munching her way through the leaves one at a time. As he approached her spotted hide popped in and out of various holes, before her head poked out from one nearer the bottom. The Little Bug giggled as Ladybird fell through the hole and landed on her head with a light bump. Now upside-down, Ladybird waved ‘hello’ to Little Bug and fluttered her wings lightly, soon righting herself.

“Hullo Ladybird”, called the Little Bug. “How many holes have you made in Old Man Jones’ leaves today?”

“Maybe a hundred?” she replied proudly, if somewhat hesitantly. The Little Bug chuckled, and after a moment Ladybird joined in. Soon, both were rolling around in the soil laughing.

“Old Man Jones will catch you one of these days” managed the Little Bug after a few gulps of air.

“Not meeee” whizzed Ladybird and she took off from the ground with her small wings and flew an impressive loop-the-loop through the air. Not looking where she was going, Ladybird promptly flew off over the grass and Little Bug scurried through to keep up. He emerged into a small clearing and watched as she flew straight into the tree-stump that served as Old Spider’s house. Out Ladybird ran, with Old Spider not far behind, a-clicking and a-clacking with anger. The two beat a hasty retreat, laughing all the way to the Pond.

All afternoon they played; with the frogs in the Pond, and the caterpillars in the flower bed; with the ants under the paving stones and with each other most of all.

Whilst playing with Centipede and Ladybird as the sun began to set Little Bug found he could not move his feet.

“Help help,” he cried. “I’m stuck!”

“There there,” reassured the Centipede, who was older than both the Little Bug and Ladybird. “It’s only sap. Give me your hands and we’ll soon pull you free.”

And so the Centipede pulled and pulled but Little Bug remained stuck. “Come Ladybird, help me pull out Little Bug”.

And so Ladybird pulled on Centipede, and Centipede pulled on Little Bug but Little Bug remained stuck.

The sun was getting low now, casting long shadows over the Garden. The Little Bug began to get nervous, until Glow-worm appeared, casting light over the area.

“What’s all this?”

“Little Bug is stuck and we cannot pull him out,” said Centipede.

“Please help us Glow-worm,” implored Ladybird.

And so Glow-worm pulled on Ladybird, and Ladybird pulled on Centipede, and Centipede pulled on Little Bug.

“Almost ther-” began Centipede but then Little Bug was suddenly freed from the sap and they all fell backwards into a heap laughing.

But then it was time to head home.

“Come Little Bug, I will guide you home,” said the Glow-worm.

“Bye bye Centipede, bye bye Ladybird,” said Little Bug.

“Bye bye Little Bug,” came the replies.

Through the forest of blades the two walked, ever accompanied by the light glow of the Glow-worm, and the Moon high above, illuminating the Garden and casting strange silvery shadows on the ground. The Little Bug tried to spot different shapes in them, and he found a grasshopper, a crown and a rake.

But then he arrived back home at the sunflower.

“Goodnight Glow-worm,” said Little Bug sleepily.

“Goodnight Little Bug.”

And so Little Bug wiggled down into the soil until he reached his little home. He wrapped himself up until he was as snug as a bug in a rug – which he was!

“Goodnight Pond, goodnight ivy, goodnight Centipede and Bee and Ants and Frogs. Goodnight Ladybird.”

His eyes fluttered as sleep approached.

“Goodnight Garden,” he managed, barely a whisper, half-dreaming of the adventures he would have tomorrow. “I love you”.

The Garden was dark.

And silver. And fun and exciting and safe. And he loved it.