Tales from Hallowed Hollow
The Competition
Written by
Marg Watt
Published by Moorna Publications at Smashwords
Moorna Publications
Text copyright © Marg Watt 2010
Illustrations copyright © Jenny Finn 2010
ISBN: 978-0-9871069-5-7
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Moorna Publications.
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The Competition
Driving winds had pushed the falling snow along so that it banked up into deep drifts in some places, while leaving other areas of ground pretty thinly covered. Even so, almost the entire surface of the meadowland of Hallowed Hollow had a covering of crisp, new whiteness.
The only exception to speak of was beneath the huge, stately, evergreen oak tree that stood sedately and almost in the centre of the hollow.
Within the upper reaches of the evergreen oak tree, Percival Downtwistle, the old and very wise barn owl, had long ago made his home.
Many, many long years before a fairly large hole had been created when a branch had snapped off close to the main trunk of the tree. It was during the time when the now mighty oak tree had been little more than a sapling.
Time, plus the elements of nature had worn away little pieces of bark and dead wood and formed a hole deep into the middle of the tree trunk. This was now Percival’s home.
During the warmer months of the year it was not unusual for him to be seen roosting on a nearby branch, dozing the daylight hours away in the warm sunshine. Whenever the weather was far less pleasant, as it was right now, he would be snuggled deep into his warm and comfortable nesting hole sound asleep, well away from the driving winds and snow.
At ground level, the dense covering of the mighty evergreen oak tree provided shelter and shade for many other assorted creatures. It was a very cool and inviting place to share during the warmer times of the day in the summer months, but it also provided a welcome spot to shelter away from the driving winds, rain and snow during the coldest and harshest times of the year.
The ancient tree also offered an excellent resting place for passing birds and creatures in among its various multi levels, and it permanently provided all manner of superb nesting sites to a large number of other creatures and birds.
One such permanent resident was a family of red squirrels who had built their untidy looking home tucked away deep within the tree’s inner reaches, so that it always remained cosy, dry, and a safe place to raise their young ones in the springtime. It was well out of the reaches of hunting birds from above, as well as possible four legged hunters from below. It also provided them with a largely undisturbed place to hide away during their long winter sleeps.
The mighty oak tree was also the permanent nesting site of many birds of all kinds.
This tended to turn the area into a constant busy hive of activity during the springtime. The adult birds would spend their busy daylight hours darting in and out of the branches, fetching and carrying nesting materials to build and repair their nests, and foodstuffs from the surrounding countryside to feed their rapidly growing youngsters.
However, at times such as this when the snow lay all about and the winter winds howled all around, the creatures that had made their homes within the sheltering reaches of the large oak tree, spent most of their time huddled away. They tried to keep as warm and dry as they possibly could, and would only venture outside when forced to seek food out in the open.
A loud bellow from the ground far below came as something of a rude surprise to awaken some of the creatures slumbering the day away in the lofty branches of the old oak tree.
“Percival Downtwistle.” The strong voice called out. “We need to speak with you on a matter of some urgency. Percival Downtwistle, are you there?”