The sun shone brightly on the grassy field; the sweet-smelling air the flowers did yield. The rabbits frolicked and bounded around; earthworms wondered why holes are underground. The fawn flying fast, its doe stood nearby; she soon raised her head, kept watchful her eye. The butterflies jumped in, out, and around, corssing the field in just one single bound. The bees were busy, get nectar they must, flower to flower moving pollen dust. The garter snake slept basking in the sun; he would be dreaming till the day was done. Hustle and bustle, industrious souls, field mice and their seeds, filling up their holes.

The hawk flies above, circles round and round; he thanks the warm breeze, not making a sound. It started to cool, the light faded, too; a sleepy feeling the animals grew. The breezes wre gone, the hares settled down, but the worms still asked why the dirt is brown. The fawn nuzzled up to Mother to sleep; the rest of the night they made not a peep. The butterflies gone, and the bees were still; each one with nectar was drunk to the gill. The garter snake slid back into his hole, list'ning to to field mice with sleep as their goal. The hawk's final cry protested the moon, and he settled down, to sleep he fell soon.