The four friends sit together on the red spotted blanket under the hill, sharing cheese rolls and apple slices; Nib's acorn cup rests on stacked stone tables and a white sunbeam reaches Moss.

A PICTURE BOOK

Moss and the Picnic Under the Hill

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Moss and the Picnic Under the Hill

Moss, a small gray mole in a red scarf, looks sadly from his dark hill tunnel at a soaked red-and-white picnic blanket, cheese rolls, and apple slices beside a rain-speckled blue pond.

Moss the little mole planned his picnic all week. He packed round cheese rolls, crisp apple slices, and a red blanket with white dots. At noon, his friends would come: Lark the rabbit, Pebble the turtle, and Nib the squirrel.

But when Moss poked his nose out of his hill, rain splashed down from the gray sky. The grass was soggy. Raindrops bounced across the pond.

“My picnic!” Moss said. His paws drooped.

In the rain outside Moss's hill, Lark carries a bowl of carrots, Pebble shelters under a large leaf, and Nib holds an acorn cup over his head while Moss stands beside the wet picnic blanket.

Lark arrived first, carrying a basket of carrots. “We could make carrot soup,” she said. “Rain is good soup weather.”

Pebble came next, walking under a shiny leaf. Nib hurried after him with an acorn cup over his head. The friends stood beside Moss’s wet blanket.

Inside the golden room under the hill, Moss pushes smooth blue and mint stones into a pile beneath a long brown root while Lark waves from the rainy tunnel entrance.

Moss glanced into the dark tunnel behind him. Then he remembered the wide room under the hill. It was full of smooth stones and old roots. “Wait here!” he said.

Inside, Moss rolled the stones into a pile. He brushed dirt from a long root that curved across the ceiling like a brown branch.

“Can we help?” called Lark.

“Yes!” said Moss.

Moss spreads the red polka-dot blanket across the underground floor as Lark arranges leaves, Nib adds yellow flowers, and Pebble brings a stack of flat stones.

Lark brought dry leaves for soft seats. Nib tucked yellow flowers into little cracks in the wall. Pebble carried in three flat stones for tiny tables. Moss spread the red blanket on the ground.

Soon the room under the hill felt warm and bright. Above them, rain drummed softly on the earth.

They ate cheese rolls and apple slices. Nib balanced his acorn cup on Pebble’s stone table. Lark told a joke about a rabbit who tried to hop over a puddle and landed in a bucket.

Moss laughed so hard that crumbs tickled his nose.

Then the rain stopped. A thin stripe of sunshine slipped through the tunnel entrance.

“The sky is ready for our picnic now,” said Pebble.

Moss looked around at his friends and their cozy picnic. “It has been ready all along,” he said.

After the rain, Moss, Lark, Pebble, and Nib share apple slices in bright wet grass near the blue pond, with the red picnic blanket visible inside Moss's hill behind them.

They carried the last apple slices outside and ate them in the wet, shining grass. Behind them, under the hill, the red blanket waited for another rainy picnic.