"Bets?" he said sleepily. "Bets, is it you? Oh gosh, is it really you?" He shook his head and fluffed out his fur. He wanted to hop out and meet Betsy looking presentable. It had been many weeks since he'd seen her.
 

Betsy was flitting back and forth outside the log. She was very excited. Her big pink and yellow wings batted back and forth. She looked even more beautiful than Flip remembered.

"Oh boy, oh boy Bets," Flip Flop was smiling from long floppy ear to long floppy ear. "You look great!"

"Thank you!" Betsy peeped in her tiny little voice. "That's because I've found the most wonderful place to live. It's a smaller field than this, but it is full of pretty flowers, and huckleberry bushes, and giant shady oak trees. I'm so happy there. I've come to take you back with me."

"Leave my field?" Flip said. The thought of it made him sad. "But, but, I've been here since I was born I've never lived in another field."

"It's time to go Flip," Betsy said. "There is nothing here but weeds and bugs. Look how skinny you are. I think it's a sign."

"A sign?" Flip questioned her. He didn't know what she meant, Although, he was feeling kind of hungry all the time

"Yes, yes. A sign. Just listen to me and come along. It's time to go. Besides, I miss you."

Well, that's all it took. Flip Flop took a last look around, decided Betsy was probably right, packed up his things, and followed her all the way to this field.
 

A POSSUM IN THE ROSES©

One sunny, summer day Betsy Butterfly was flitting through her favorite rose garden.  Petal to petal, blossom to blossom, licking up all the sweet nectar she loved so much.  Careful not to tear her pretty wings on the thorns, she  bounced from bush to bush until she was too tired and too full to go on.  When she finished, she planned to take a long, lazy nap in the nearby Lantana.  But first, she wanted to taste as many roses as possible.

This was a quiet garden.  It sat in a patch of sunshine nearby Miss Maples’ cottage.  Each bush had a name.  Betsy named them all.  The luscious velvety red rose she called scarlet, and goldy was the one with bright yellow petals and orange trim.  The vivid pink with the heavenly scent she called princess.  Choosing a flower on which to land was difficult.  Betsy loved them all and today she was going to try and snuggle into every one, at least for a little sniff.

"Oh, phooey,” Betsy sighed.  “This is supposed to be my quiet place.  A place where I can daydream and play and not be bothered by anybody or anything.”  She flew over to her favorite rose, the large, saucer sized one with the pretty peach petals.  The wind picked up a bit and Betsy sat on top of the blossom, swaying to and fro. 

I suppose one old bumble isn’t too much to worry about, Betsy thought to herself.   But as she sat there cleaning her wings, licking nectar every now and then, she couldn’t help hearing that ol’ bumble bee buzzing from rose to rose.  Bzzzzz, Bzzzzzz, Bzzzz, Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Bzzzzz, Bzzz.

“Can you stop making all that racket Buzzter!?”  Betsy flew into the air, batting her wings in a nervous frenzy.  “You’re making me crazy!”  Buzzter wiggled out from inside a yellow rose, buzzing louder than ever.

“What’s that Bets?  I can’t hear you when I’m busy buzzin’,” Buzzter Bumble grinned, nectar dripping off his nose.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Betsy said in a huff and with that, she flew away on the tail of the wind, grumbling about bumbles the whole way back to the field.

WHAT'S A JAYBIRD TO DO?©            Jaybird and I in New York

One lovely winter day not long ago, a beautiful song came from the forest to the field.   Over the tree limbs draped in snow; across the brown grasses now twinkling with ice, the song danced through the air, sweet and joyful.  It drifted across the frozen field, like a breeze through a curtain, all the way to Flip Flop's door. 

"Oh boy, oh boy," Flip Flop said with a shudder.  He opened the door to hear more clearly.  "What a wonderful song that is!" he sighed, listening closely and wrapping his long floppy ears around himself to  stay warm.  "What a princely voice that is!"  He became so curious, he ventured out into the cold field, away from his warm lunch of oven-baked carrots.  He didn't even stop to close the door to his cozy 

rabbit hole. 

"I have to find that song!" Flip cried out as he hopped long lolloping hops across the frozen field.  The icy grass crunched beneath his big bunny feet.  He hopped and crunched and hopped and crunched  his way toward the forest. 

"Oh boy, oh boy," he said.  "My feet are crunching so loud it sounds like a giant is coming through the field instead of a little old bunny like me."  Just then, the song suddenly stopped.

"Oh no!" Flip stopped and lifted an ear to hear.  "Don't go away!  I'm trying to find you!"  But the field fell silent.  There was only the shrill whip of the wind whistling through the chilly grass.  Flip sat very    still,  realizing that perhaps his crunching noise scared away who ever was singing.

"Hmm," Flip thought out loud.  "If I sit quietly, maybe the song will come back."  So he huddled down into the frosty field until all you could see was a puff of thin steam curling above him with every breath.

"Clack, clackety clack, clack, clackety clack."  Oh no! Flip thought.  My teeth are chattering!  "Clack, clackety clack, clackety, clack, clack, clack."  Try as he might, Flip just couldn't stop his teeth from clickety clacking.  He scrunched up his face like a tight ball of yarn.  That didn't work.  He pinched his lips together like they'd been glued.  That didn't work.  Just as he decided to hold his breath, it no longer mattered because, as he clickety clacked in the cold, the song began to warble out from the forest.

          "Oh, bbbboy, oh bbboy," Flip said with a shiver.  "There it is!  Th th thank goodness.  I can start hhhopping and get warm!"  So off he hopped, quick as a bunny, hopping and crunching until he came to the edge of the snow capped forest.

              The forest was filled with beautiful music.  Even the icicles, dangling like crystal from the branches above, dripped in tune with the melody.  The lyrics swelled in the frozen brush.  The voice which     carried the song seemed to be melting winter away with its sweetness.

          "Hello!"  Flip called out, his voice echoing through the barren wood.  "Where are you?  I'm Flip Flop and I want to tell you how much  I'm enjoying your song!"  There was no reply.  The forest fell silent,       except for the sound of the nearby brook, its icy waters rolling quickly under a frozen crust. 

          "Pppplease," called Flip Flop with a shiver.  "Don't stop singing, just let me know where you are so we can meet.  Bbbesides, I'm freezing, I'm not uuuused to being out in the cold for so long."       

GWENDOLYN THE GHOST©

"Oh boy, oh boy,” he sighed, seeing that he was once again a fluffed out rabbit.  “I suppose I should be heading home too.  It’s just about carrot time anyway.”  So hopping across the brown grasses and through the shadows of dusk, Flip made his way home to his cozy hutch.