Tilda stands carefully on a kneeling cream goat’s back and pulls the blue ribbon at the wind wheel while the goat stays steady below her.

A PICTURE BOOK

Tilda and the Humming Hill

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Tilda and the Humming Hill

Tilda sits at a small table by an open window, holding toast and humming toward a green hill outside. A cup and plate sit on the table.

Tilda lived in a yellow house at the foot of a grassy hill. Every morning, the hill made one small sound: hum-hum-hum. Tilda hummed back as she ate her toast.

Tilda crouches on a grassy hill, looking up at a still six-paddled wind wheel wrapped tightly with a long blue ribbon.

But one windy morning, the hill was quiet. No hum floated through Tilda’s window. She pulled on her red boots and hurried outside.

At the hill, Tilda pressed her ear to the grass. Nothing. She climbed the path, past three daisies and a smooth gray rock. At the top stood an old wooden wind wheel. Its six painted paddles did not move.

“Are you the hill’s hum?” Tilda asked.

The wind wheel gave a tiny creak. A long blue ribbon was wound tightly around its middle. The wind could not turn the paddles.

Tilda tugged the ribbon, but it would not budge. She reached for the knot, but it was too high. Then she spotted a friendly goat nibbling clover nearby.

“Could you help me reach it?” she asked.

The goat knelt down. Tilda carefully climbed onto its broad back and grabbed the knot. Pull, pull, pull! At last, the ribbon came loose.

The colorful wooden wind wheel spins in the wind as the freed blue ribbon streams across the grassy hill.

A gust of wind whooshed over the hill. Whirr! The paddles began to turn. The blue ribbon flew free and danced across the grass.

Hum-hum-hum! The hill sang again, deeper and brighter than before.

Tilda and the cream goat stand together on the hill, smiling up at the spinning colorful wind wheel.

Tilda laughed. The goat gave a happy little bleat. Together, they watched the wind wheel spin against the wide blue sky.

A cream goat trots through clover with the blue ribbon tied around its collar and streaming behind it. Tilda watches from beside her yellow house.

Then Tilda tied the blue ribbon around the goat’s collar. It fluttered behind him like a little flag as he trotted through the clover. All afternoon, from her yellow house, Tilda could hear the hill humming.