Once upon a time, in a land where jelly beans rained, the birds wore hats and danced the tango every Tuesday. The clouds were made of cotton candy, and the sun always smiled. Do you think the moon eats cheese? I heard it prefers crackers.
The squirrels have secret meetings under the oak tree, plotting to take the acorn crown from the sleepy owl. Migration is an art form, a ballet of tiny feet and whispering wings. Whisper away the secrets.
Patterns in the sky draw invisible lines, guiding lost kites home. Each pattern a story, a giggle, a hop. Kites don't like to be alone.
The paths are wiggly like a worm. Worms know where to go, don’t they?