An adaption of Kenneth Grahame’s characters and continuation of their stories from “Wind in the Willows”
Babbling sounds rise and echo around the small hollow. Rising from slumber, stretching outward, brushing the mud caked ceiling which had dried out ages ago, some of it came crumbling down on poor Rat’s head. Rolling out of bed he grabbed the blanket by each corner and carefully pulled it off the bed, hanging it out an open window he shook it furiously sending mud shards out onto the wild blue river which reflected the bright morning sun and deep white fluffy clouds all calling out a promise of a grand day of spring and adventure. Cheered on by a burning desire to burst out of his home and go for a long boat ride Rat feverishly went about his morning routine.
Thinking to himself he listed off the items he would need: forks, knives, spoons, plates, bowls, salad, mustard, dressing, bread, smoked ham, pickled beets, pickles of both the dill and bread and butter variety, cheddar cheese, a cutting board and cheese knife… On and on he went till the basket was overfull and heavy. Dreadful at the abundance he then decided he must have company on this voyage. Who better to ring than his friend Mole. It had been half a year since they last saw each other on their last adventure before Winter set in. Mole had insisted that he must hibernate in his natural habitat and what kind of friend, Rat thought to himself, would take away any comfort such a good hearted chap as Mole desired?
Rat had a time of pushing his door open since Winter passed. Debrises and leaves had pilled themselves up against it and he had to call out to a passing Rabbit for help. The Rabbit thumped his tail sending the debris into a whirlwind and laughed for the effort, “that should do the trick, try now Rattie,” and with a great heave the door flew open, letting the brisk Spring air take stronghold in his hollow.
“Much obliged, have you seen Mole today?” Rat asked sweeping a few stubborn remains out the front entrance.
“Not this morning no, but I hear there was a tree that fell near Mole Hill,” Rabbit thumped his tail, impatient to be off exploring the new life Spring brought with her this year.
“A TREE!” Rat cried out and nearly bolted on the spot before remembering to close up his own Hollow and grab the picnic basket, the treasure of the adventure. “I must be off at once then.” Rat said his goodbyes to Rabbit who impatiently, but politely said his goodbyes and was off just as quick as he had come. Rat heaved the basket into the row boat and set off against the light current towards The Hollow. The river lapped at his boats and oars, splish, splash, the sounds delighted Rat and he felt alive again. The winter had been unpleasantly cold this year and he felt an ache in his bones he hadn’t last year. He might not have many adventures left and he meant to make them count this year.