Under a gum tree on the edge of the bush, a family of echidnas made their home. The gum tree didn't mind this neighbourly arrangement one bit. It had been plagued by mice and all sorts of bark beetles, and they were all terrified of echidnas.
Mum Echidna bustled about all day, tidying up the burrow. Dad slept, and at night he went out foraging. Soon the little echidnas began poking their curious snouts out into the open. But it was rather scary, with so much unfamiliar around them.
One day Mum popped out on errands, and the bravest of the babies, Quilly, crept out of the burrow. He squinted for a long time in the sunshine, and he liked being above ground more and more. So many tempting smells and so much rustling!
He wasn't afraid of enemies, because Mum had taught him to roll into a ball when danger came, and to stand his quills up on end. He found himself some tasty treats and ate them with great pleasure.
He lay down under the gum tree beside the burrow and began to doze to the whisper of the leaves. One gum leaf told him about everything it had seen from its height. And Quilly sighed quietly, for he couldn't wander so far from home.
But then Mum came back and, cross, led the little echidna home. She worried a great deal about the lives of her babies and tried hard to keep them out of harm's way.
Before long the young echidnas grew up and scattered to different burrows. Only Quilly never forgot the gum tree, and he always came running to its shade to listen to the rustling leaves. He alone knew what they were saying.
Chloe and the Echidna
Chloe wandered through the scrub,
Tripped and tumbled in the shrub.
Then, on a leaf, she spied
An echidna by her side.
'You're awfully prickly, little one,
Funny, but not mean, I'd say.
Let me pop you in my bag
And take you home today.'
But the echidna got cross
And huffed a snort in reply.
Chloe heard a firm, clear 'No!'
And sighed, and let it lie.
'I've settled here, you see,
And this is home to me.
So grab a pencil, dear,
And a sketchbook, far from here.'
Draw my portrait, sketch me well,
Then teach the kids to do it too.
They'll give them to their mums,
So all can gaze, and love it true.
A Forest Happening
One day a magpie brought the news to the bush,
'Spring! Spring! Spring has come!' she sang with a rush.
And the forest woke and hummed and stirred,
Its every branch a joyful word.
All the beasts and birds cried out as one:
'Why didn't we greet spring? Why, when she had come?
Not a single sign of her did we notice, not one?'
Only the she-oak stood quiet and still,
On the rise, its branches shielding the hill,
Guarding a wildflower just unfurled,
Spring's own creation, a small white bloom.
