The Cricket’s Song

The sun was beginning to set, painting the whole sky pink. The cows were mooing contentedly in the pasture and the birds were returning to their nests after their daily adventures. Everyone had tired legs and tired wings, and they all just wanted to snuggle up in their beds and fall asleep peacefully.

The little cricket had been looking forward to this moment all day. He had already planned his evening song – a lullaby to accompany all the creatures in the meadow, pasture and forest into the realm of dreams. A little concert for the local bugs, grasshoppers, birds and snails.

He picked up his violin, carefully tuned it, placed it under his chin and smeared the bow with rosin. The first quiet notes began to flow… but what was that? It sounded all wrong. The cricket was about to check his violin to see if something was wrong with it, but then he noticed something else.

“Oh, it’s not my violin, it’s a frog croaking from the pond!” he was relieved to realise. “Let me play you a lullaby, frog.”

“No way, I need to sing to my little tadpoles so that they grow big and healthy,” the frog told him firmly, rolling her eyes and carrying on croaking.

So the cricket packed up his violin and went to the forest. He would play for the foxes, hares and wild boars and with a bit of luck, no one would disturb him there. He got everything ready again and was just about to start playing when he heard a deep hoot. And then another and another.

“Oh, owl,” exclaimed the displeased cricket, “I was just about to play a lullaby. Can’t you hoot some other time?”

“No, I can’t. I’ve just…