Balduin Discovers the Deep Root Passage

It was a quiet morning in the Silbenwald. The warm lanterns on the old oak trees still glowed their soft, golden light, even as the sun slowly climbed through the leafy canopy above. A gentle mist lay over the mossy ground and curled itself around the thick, gnarled roots. Balduin the badger stood at the entrance to his little home in the earth bank and stretched himself with great pleasure. He yawned once, then twice, and drew a long, slow breath of fresh forest air. There was something different about the smell today — a hint of damp soil, a breath of old wood, and something else besides, something Balduin had never quite caught before.

Balduin padded curiously down the slope. Between two particularly large roots, pressed into the ground like a pair of tangled arms, he noticed something he had never seen before. There, right between the roots, yawned a dark opening — not large, but just the right size for a small badger. Balduin knelt down and twitched his nose. A cool thread of air drifted towards him, soft and gentle, like a quiet breath from the earth itself. Balduin blinked. Then he whispered softly to himself: "Why, it's a proper passage! A deep root passage!" His heart beat with excitement, though not with fear — more the way it feels when you find a forgotten sweet tucked inside a waistcoat pocket.

Just as Balduin was wondering whether to go in, there came a loud rustling from above. Fippa the squirrel launched herself from a branch in one great leap and landed beside Balduin on the moss with a soft thump. Fippa's bushy tail waved cheerfully back and forth. "Balduin, what are you staring at so carefully?" Fippa squeaked, stretching her little red nose forward with curiosity. Balduin pointed to the opening between the roots. "I think it's a very old, secret root passage, Fippa," he said. Fippa's eyes went wide as acorns. "Oh! A secret passage! May I come with you?" Balduin nodded and smiled warmly. "Of course — but we go slowly, and we look after each other."

Balduin crawled in first, and Fippa followed close behind. The passage was wonderfully soft — the walls of earth and root felt smooth and warm to the touch. And then they noticed something quite marvellous: tucked all through the roots were tiny fireflies, glowing steadily with a delicate green light. It looked just like a night sky that had burrowed itself into the ground. Balduin stopped and gazed around in quiet wonder. "Fippa," he breathed, "I think the fireflies sleep here during the day — and simply keep on glowing while they do." Fippa nodded slowly and whispered back: "It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

The passage grew wider and opened into a small, round chamber. In the very middle of the chamber, Piek the hedgehog sat on a smooth round stone, dozing gently. Piek's spines rose and fell in a steady, peaceful rhythm. In front of him stood three little clay pots, from which thin wisps of steam curled upwards, carrying the lovely scent of herbs through the warm air. Balduin tiptoed closer, as quietly as he could manage. "So Piek already knows about this place," Balduin whispered to Fippa. Fippa pressed both paws over her mouth and nearly laughed without making a single sound. Then she curled up on a small mossy bed in the corner, for it was so wonderfully cosy here that her eyes grew heavy all on their own.

Balduin settled carefully beside Piek and looked more closely at the three little clay pots. In one lay dried leaves, in the second a handful of small round berries, and in the third nothing but a single smooth pebble. Balduin puzzled over this for a moment. What could it mean? Just then, Piek stirred slowly awake. He blinked once, then twice, and looked up at Balduin with his small, dark eyes. "Ah, Balduin," said Piek in a sleepy voice. "So you've found my resting place." Balduin dipped his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, Piek — we didn't mean to disturb you." Piek gave a friendly shake of his spines. "Disturb? Not at all. I'm glad of the company. It's good down here, for quiet thoughts."

Piek explained the three pots to Balduin in calm, unhurried words. The pot with the leaves reminded him of spring, the one with the berries of summer, and the pebble stood for the stillness of winter. "When I sit here and look at them," said Piek, "I think of all the good things that have been, and all the good things still to come. And then everything inside me grows very quiet." Balduin listened in silence and felt something open wide and warm inside his own chest. Fippa, meanwhile, had closed her eyes entirely and fallen fast asleep on the mossy bed, her bushy tail curled all around her like a cosy blanket.

After a while, Balduin said a quiet goodbye to Piek and padded back through the glowing root passage and out into the open air. The sun stood higher now, but the Silbenwald was still hushed and peaceful. Balduin sat down on a large moss-covered stone and looked up into the treetops. There, on a broad branch, the owl perched and gazed down at Balduin with her great golden eyes. "I see you have found the old root passage," she said in her deep, gentle voice. Balduin nodded. "I had no idea it was there." The owl smiled. "Some things can only be found when you are ready to look properly."

Just then the ferns rustled, and the fox slipped silently out of the shadows. He had a warm red coat and a white-tipped tail, and he regarded Balduin with curious amber eyes. "I heard that you discovered the root passage, Balduin," said the fox. "What is it like down there?" Balduin thought for a moment before he answered. "It's still and warm, and the fireflies glow, and Piek has three little pots that remind him of all the seasons." The fox sat down beside Balduin on the stone. "That sounds wonderfully peaceful," he said quietly. "I think I shall pay Piek a visit before long." The two of them sat side by side for a while, listening to the soft rush of leaves overhead.

As the afternoon drifted gently into early evening, Balduin made his way back to his earth bank. The lanterns in the trees of the Silbenwald were beginning to shine a little more brightly again. Balduin glanced once more at the roots that hid the secret passage behind them, and he smiled. It had been a very special day — not a loud or rushing day, but a day full of small, warm discoveries. Balduin crawled into his cosy burrow, curled up on his soft bed of leaves, and closed his eyes. Out in the earth, the fireflies whispered their quiet light through the roots, and Balduin thought: sometimes you need only look carefully, and the Silbenwald will show you something wonderful.