Woodland Snippets

Long before there was a Camp Delaney Mae...

Before there was a HUB...

Before there was a platform, a tent, or a Ranger with a clipboard...

there was a little barred owl named Tammy.

Tammy was the baby of the family.

She was growing fast, she was very sweet, and she loved her family dearly—especially her big sister, Marito.

Of course, the woodland would someday know Marito by another name.

Mrs. O.

But that is a different story.

As Tammy grew, she became a very active young owl. Curious. Adventurous. Always wondering what might be beyond the next ridge or on the other side of the forest.

But there was something else, too.

Tammy never quite felt like she fit the mold of what an owl in the woodland was supposed to be.

And when she became old enough to fly and hunt on her own, she finally went to her sister.

“Marito,” Tammy said quietly, “I just don’t fit in here. I need to explore the world. I want to see new things. Experience different cultures. Find out what else is out there.”

Neither sister wanted to say goodbye.

They both cried.

But deep inside, Marito knew her beloved little sister was making the right choice.

So Tammy spread her wings and left the woodland.

Over the years, Tammy would occasionally appear without warning.

She never sent word ahead.

She simply showed up.

And you could usually spot her before she ever reached the nest.

Pink feathers.

Purple feathers.

Braided feathers.

Beads.

Accessories from places no woodland owl had ever heard of.

Tammy’s appearance was… loud.

Pink and purple feathers braided into her own became something of a calling card.

Every visit was the same.

She and Marito would laugh.

They would talk for hours.

They would remember when they were young.

And Tammy was always happy to see her sister.

But eventually she would look toward the horizon.

She still wasn’t ready to stay.

So once again, she would leave.

Years passed.

Back in Tammy’s home woodland, something unusual began happening.

First came a platform.

Then a tent.

Then a little Ranger carrying a clipboard.

Trails appeared.

Animals began gathering.

New residents arrived from all over.

Somehow, the little woodland Tammy remembered was becoming a community filled with every kind of creature imaginable.

And the things happening there were beginning to be known by one name:

Camp Delaney Mae.

Word traveled quickly.

The Jet Stream Telegraph was being carried far beyond the woodland by migrating birds who told anyone who would listen about the remarkable things happening at CDM.

One afternoon, far, far from home, Tammy was relaxing in a coconut tree overlooking a beach.

A warm breeze moved through the palms.

The ocean rolled quietly below.

And somehow, a newspaper found its way to her branch.

Tammy picked it up.

Across the top were the words:

THE JET STREAM TELEGRAPH

She began reading.

Stories about animals working together.

Stories about new residents.

Stories about trails, meetings, projects, celebrations, and strange woodland adventures.

Tammy smiled.

Then she read a little closer.

Some of the places sounded familiar.

Very familiar.

Then she turned the page.

There was a photograph showing construction taking place in the North Valley.

Tammy froze.

She stared at the picture.

Then stared again.

Suddenly she jumped to her feet.

“OH MY WOODLAND!”

Several nearby birds nearly fell from their branches.

Tammy pointed at the newspaper.

“This is my home!”

The woodland she had left so many years ago had become Camp Delaney Mae.

And Tammy immediately began the long journey home.

A few weeks later, Mrs. O was resting quietly in the old walnut tree.

The talent show had taken place only a few days before.

Things were finally beginning to return to normal.

Well...

except for Walnut Willie continually reminding everyone that STUMP had won.

Mrs. O had mostly learned to ignore him.

She sat comfortably on her perch, only half paying attention to the activity below, when suddenly a shadow passed across the branch.

Mrs. O looked up.

At first, all she saw was a flash of color.

Pink.

Purple.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Mrs. O stood.

There was no mistaking those feathers.

“SISTER!”

The owl above her stopped.

“MARITO!”

Every head in Camp Delaney Mae turned upward.

Marito?

Who in the woodland was named Marito?

One-Eyed Sam, who had been sitting nearby, slowly lowered the acorn he had been eating.

His good eye narrowed.

“Marito?” he whispered.

He immediately glanced toward Phineas Hopper XVI.

Phineas was staring up at the two owls just like everyone else.

That did not reassure Sam.

If anything, it made him more suspicious.

Sam quietly reached into his vest, pulled out his little notebook, and flipped to a clean page.

Across the top, in large, bold letters, he wrote:

NEW CASE: MARITO

Then he underlined it twice.

Tammy dropped onto the branch and the two sisters embraced.

For several moments neither one said anything.

There were tears in both their eyes.

Finally, Mrs. O leaned close and whispered.

“These folks don’t know my real name.”

Tammy pulled back and looked at her.

Mrs. O continued quietly.

“And I would like to keep it that way, please.”

Tammy gave her sister the famous family LOOK.

The kind of look only a sister can give.

Then she smiled.

“Fine.”

Mrs. O breathed a sigh of relief.

From a nearby branch came the faint scratching sound of a pencil moving very quickly across paper.

Mrs. O looked over.

Sam immediately stopped writing and smiled.

“Beautiful reunion.”

Mrs. O stared at him.

Sam slowly closed the notebook.

The sisters spent the next several hours catching up.

Tammy told Mrs. O about her travels.

The places she had seen.

The creatures she had met.

The cultures she had experienced.

Mrs. O told Tammy how a simple platform and tent had somehow grown into a magical little community where animals of every kind lived together in peace and harmony.

Tammy listened carefully.

For the first time in her life, the woodland she remembered didn’t sound like a place where she wouldn’t fit in.

It sounded like a place where being different might actually be useful.

Eventually Mrs. O became quiet.

She looked at her little sister.

“Sister,” she said, “if you will stay, we have a place for you.”

Tammy tilted her head.

Mrs. O smiled.

“I know better than anyone that you have always been a night owl.”

Tammy grinned.

“And Camp Delaney Mae needs someone watching over things while most of the woodland is asleep.”

Mrs. O straightened proudly.

“I would like you to become our Chief of Night Watch and report directly to me about anything happening during the night.”

Tammy said nothing.

She looked down at her weathered talons.

Talons that had landed on branches all over the world.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

Then she looked back at the sister she had left so many years ago.

“I would be honored.”

Mrs. O smiled.

Tammy raised one wing.

“Just don’t ask me to be here at noon.”

Autumn had settled over Camp Delaney Mae, covering the trails, stumps, and forest floor with leaves of red, orange, yellow, and brown.

One morning, Paw Paw carried his leaf blower down to the Camp.

“I’m going to clean up some of these leaves before they bury the whole place,” he announced.

Ranger D and her little sister Iris watched as the leaves swirled through the air.

“Paw Paw!” Ranger D called. “Could you blow them all into one giant pile?”

“A really, really big one!” Iris added, stretching her arms as wide as they would go.

Paw Paw smiled. He already knew what the girls had in mind.

For nearly the entire day, he blew leaves away from the tent platform, the fire ring, Bunny Boulevard, Flying Pig Parkway, and the Fairy Footpath. He gathered every leaf into one enormous pile near the center of Camp Delaney Mae.

By the time he finished, the pile was nearly as tall as Ranger D.

“That ought to be big enough,” Paw Paw said.

Ranger D and Iris immediately raced toward it.

“Wait until I turn off the blower!” Paw Paw shouted.

But it was too late.

The girls jumped into the pile and disappeared beneath the leaves. A moment later, leaves flew in every direction as Ranger D and Iris rolled, kicked, burrowed, and laughed.

Even Paw Paw had to laugh—although he had spent all day making the pile, and the girls had scattered half of it in less than a minute.

From his office beneath the twisted roots of an old tree, Mr. Emmitt Toad heard the laughter and peeked outside.

He watched Ranger D and Iris climb to the top of the pile and tumble down its side.

“A giant pile of leaves,” Emmitt whispered. “My children would love that.”

He waited patiently until Paw Paw, Ranger D, and Iris had gone home and darkness had settled over Camp Delaney Mae.

Then Emmitt brought all sixteen of his little toads to the leaf pile.

“Stay where I can see you,” he warned.

Sixteen little voices answered at once.

“Yes, Papa!”

The little toads charged into the leaves.

They hopped over one another, tunneled beneath the pile, and rolled down its sides. Leaves flew everywhere. Some of the children tried to hide while the others searched for them. Two of the smallest toads climbed to the very top and leaped into the middle.

Emmitt sat nearby, smiling as he watched them play.

Then one little toad screamed.

“The rocks are coming alive!”

The frightened child bolted from the pile.

The other fifteen little toads screamed too. They came hopping, jumping, tumbling, and crashing out of the leaves as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Emmitt nearly fell backward.

“What in the Woodland is going on?” he asked.

“There are rocks in there!” one child cried.

“Little round rocks!” said another.

“They started moving!” shouted a third.

“And they tried to bite us!” added the smallest toad.

“Moving rocks?” Emmitt asked.

All sixteen children nodded.

Emmitt tried not to smile.

“Show me where you saw them.”

The children crowded closely behind him as he approached the leaf pile. None of them wanted to go first, so Emmitt carefully scraped away the top layer of leaves.

“There!” one child whispered.

Five tiny gray balls rested beneath the leaves.

As Emmitt leaned closer, the little balls slowly uncurled. Tiny legs appeared, followed by five small faces staring up at him.

In soft, roly-poly voices, they spoke together.

“Sorry, Mr. Emmitt. We didn’t mean to frighten anyone. We were only playing in the leaves.”

Emmitt stared at the five little roly-polies.

Then he looked at his sixteen frightened children.

Suddenly, he let out the loudest croak they had ever heard.

Emmitt fell onto his back, kicking his feet and rolling across the ground with laughter.

“The rocks are coming alive!” he cried, imitating the children. “The little round rocks are trying to bite us!”

His children had never seen their father behave that way.

For a moment, they simply watched him.

Then one little toad began to giggle.

Another joined in.

Before long, all sixteen children were rolling beside their father, laughing until their bellies hurt. Even the five roly-polies laughed in their tiny, squeaky voices.

“They weren’t trying to bite you,” Emmitt explained. “Those little legs probably tickled when they crawled across you.”

Emmitt introduced the children to the five roly-polies, and soon everyone returned to the pile.

Whenever one of the roly-polies curled into a little ball, the toads shouted, “The rocks are coming alive!”

Then everyone burst into laughter again.

Before sunrise, Emmitt gathered his children and quietly led them home. The five roly-polies burrowed beneath the leaves and curled up together to rest.

Later that morning, Ranger D and Iris returned to the Camp.

They raced toward the leaf pile, but Ranger D stopped when she noticed something moving near its edge.

“Look, Iris!” she said excitedly. “Roly-poly bugs!”

Ranger D knelt and held out her hand. One of the little roly-polies crawled onto her finger. When Iris leaned closer, it became frightened and curled itself into a tiny gray ball.

Iris’s eyes grew wide.

“It turned into a rock!”

Ranger D smiled.

“That’s what roly-polies do when they get scared. They roll themselves into little balls so they’ll feel safe.”

She carefully placed the roly-poly in Iris’s palm.

“Be very gentle,” Ranger D said. “They’re tiny.”

Iris held perfectly still as the little gray ball slowly uncurled and began walking across her hand. Soon all five roly-polies were crawling over the girls’ fingers.

When they had finished watching them, Ranger D carefully returned the roly-polies to the damp leaves beside an old log.

“They’ll be safe here,” she said.

Ranger D and Iris ran back toward the house, leaving the leaf pile quiet once again.

From beneath the old log, five tiny faces peeked out.

From inside Emmitt’s nearby root office came sixteen little voices.

“The rocks are coming alive!”

Emmitt’s enormous croak of laughter echoed throughout Camp Delaney Mae.

Ranger D and Paw Paw were walking past the HUB when a flash of brilliant orange drifted across the Woodland.

It circled once above the flowers, floated over the fire ring, and finally settled near a patch of milkweed.

Ranger D stopped walking.

“Paw Paw, look! That monarch is beautiful!”

Paw Paw watched the butterfly slowly open and close her wings in the morning sunlight.

“She sure is,” he said. “Looks like she found our little patch of milkweed.”

“Do monarchs like milkweed?”

“They need it,” Paw Paw explained. “It’s where they lay their eggs, and when the caterpillars hatch, that’s what they eat.”

Ranger D studied the small patch.

“Maybe we need more.”

Paw Paw smiled.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Before he could say anything else, a small red breast flashed between the trees.

Robin had noticed the visitor too.

And at Camp Delaney Mae, Robin believed every new arrival deserved a proper welcome.

She flew toward the milkweed, but as she drew closer, she slowed.

The monarch was magnificent.

Her wings were brilliant orange, divided by bold black lines and bordered with neat rows of white spots.

Robin had never seen anyone quite like her.

This must be the queen of the monarchs, she thought.

Robin landed nearby, lowered her head respectfully, and gave her finest welcoming bow.

“Your Majesty,” she said, “on behalf of everyone at Camp Delaney Mae, welcome to our Woodland.”

The monarch looked surprised.

Then she laughed.

“Oh, goodness. Please stand up. That really isn’t necessary.”

Robin cautiously lifted her head.

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all. My name is Alexis.”

Robin straightened her feathers.

“Alexis. Of course. I’m Robin, Camp Delaney Mae’s official—”

She paused.

Robin didn’t actually have an official title.

“—welcoming robin.”

Alexis smiled.

“A very important position, I’m sure.”

Robin decided immediately that she liked her.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Robin said, “what brings you here?”

“I’m the Chief Migration Scout for Monarch Nation,” Alexis explained. “I travel with the leading edge of the fall migration. I check for nectar, safe resting places, weather conditions, and anything the others should know before they come through.”

Robin blinked.

“Monarch Nation?”

Alexis nodded.

“There are quite a few of us.”

Robin looked again at the beautiful orange wings.

Maybe she really was royalty after all.

Alexis glanced around the HUB, the trails, the flowers, and the trees surrounding Camp Delaney Mae.

Then she smiled.

“I think the others are going to like this place.”

Thomas the Turkey Vulture took his work very seriously.

Very seriously.

One morning, Willie found him carefully inspecting a messy corner of the Woodland.

Willie tilted his head.

“Morning, Thomas. Picking up trash?”

Thomas slowly turned.

“Mr. Willie, I am not a trash collector.”

Willie blinked.

“You’re picking up trash.”

“I am a Sanitation Engineer,” Thomas said. “There is considerably more science involved.”

Willie nodded.

“Trash collector with schooling.”

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment.

“No.”

A little later, Willie wandered by again.

“How’s the trash collecting going?”

Thomas straightened.

“Sanitation. Engineering.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Willie took three more steps.

“Need a bigger trash bag?”

Thomas stared at him.

Willie smiled.

Thomas went back to work.

By lunchtime, Thomas had organized the area, cleaned everything thoroughly, and made several notes about how the Woodland could do a better job keeping things tidy.

Willie returned one more time.

“Well, I’ll give you this, Thomas. You’re a mighty good trash collector.”

Thomas took a long breath.

Then he smiled.

“Aunt Jean told me a long time ago that I was going to become an engineer someday.”

Willie nodded thoughtfully.

Thomas continued.

“And I have no intention of proving Aunt Jean wrong.”

Willie looked at the spotless area.

“Fair enough, Engineer.”

Thomas gave him an approving nod.

Willie started walking away.

Then he called over his shoulder.

“Still looks like trash collecting to me!”

Thomas just shook his head.

Some jobs in the Woodland were dirty jobs.

That didn’t mean they weren’t important ones.

Mrs. O had been reviewing the Woodland’s growing list of jobs and responsibilities when something stopped her cold.

Henry had his work.

Emmitt had his communications office.

Harriet watched over safety.

The Starlings even had a title.

Mrs. O blinked.

“The Starlings have a title, for Woodland’s sake.”

Then she realized what was missing.

Robin.

Robin Red Breast had welcomed nearly every newcomer who had found their way to Camp Delaney Mae. She helped families settle in, answered questions, checked on new residents, and somehow still found time to keep the Woodland supplied with her famous Worm Cobblers.

And no one had ever officially recognized her for any of it.

Mrs. O immediately sent word to Emmitt.

“Mandatory emergency meeting. Three o’clock sharp. Walnut Stump.”

By three o’clock, nearly the entire Woodland had gathered.

Robin arrived last.

She stepped into the clearing with a few crumbs of Worm Cobbler still clinging to her apron.

Mrs. O motioned her forward.

Robin looked around nervously.

“Me?”

“Yes, Robin. You.”

Robin slowly made her way to the Walnut Stump.

Mrs. O looked at her for a moment.

“It has come to my attention, Ms. Robin, that we have never properly acknowledged the fine work you do and the dedication you show this Woodland every single day.”

Robin lowered her head.

Mrs. O continued.

“You welcome new families. You help them find their place here. You make certain no one arrives at Camp Delaney Mae feeling like a stranger.”

From somewhere near the back, Happy whispered to Sam, “And the Worm Cobbler.”

Mrs. O looked toward him.

Happy sat up straight.

Mrs. O turned back to Robin.

“And yes. The Worm Cobbler.”

Robin smiled.

Mrs. O lifted one wing.

“By the authority given to me by this community, I now proclaim Ms. Robin Red Breast…”

She paused.

“…Director of Community Welcoming and Hospitality.”

The clearing erupted.

Happy jumped to his feet.

“AMEN, SISTER!”

Mrs. O turned her head.

Mrs. C turned hers at exactly the same time.

Happy received the double-barreled look.

He slowly sat back down.

Then he leaned toward Sam and whispered, “I just can’t help it.”

Mrs. O continued as though nothing had happened.

“Brendan and Henry are already crafting an official plaque for Robin’s house.”

Henry gave Robin a thumbs-up.

Brendan nodded proudly.

Mrs. O smiled.

“Three cheers for our Director of Community Welcoming and Hospitality.”

The Woodland cheered.

Across the yard, Paw Paw and Ranger D sat on the porch drinking sweet tea.

A burst of chirps, squeals, barks, and excited Woodland noises rolled out of the trees.

Ranger D looked toward the woods.

“What do you think that was?”

Paw Paw took another drink.

“No idea.”

And somewhere beneath the walnut tree, Robin Red Breast stood smiling beneath a title she had already been earning for a very long time.

Room for Everyone

Ranger D looked toward the feeders. “There are a lot more birds than there used to be.”

Paw Paw nodded. “There sure are.”

She looked down toward the North Valley. Since the brush had been cleared and the drainage work had stopped the water from turning it into a swamp, the whole area looked different.

Paw Paw followed her eyes.

“You know,” he said, “we ought to put up some more birdhouses.”

Ranger D smiled. “For all the new birds?”

“Exactly.”

Neither of them had any idea that, on the other side of the Woodland, Brendan and Henry were looking at almost the exact same problem.

For weeks, the two had been working tirelessly in the North Valley.

The area had once been too wet and unpredictable for much of anything, but after the emergency water-diversion work, the valley had become one of the safest places in Camp Delaney Mae for expansion.

And now B&H Construction was nearly finished with its first major project.

New burrows and homes stretched across the valley floor, each one carefully placed and built with winter in mind.

Henry stood back and admired their work.

“You know what this needs?”

Brendan kept working.

“A roof inspection?”

“A grand opening.”

Brendan stopped.

Henry was already warming to the idea.

“Food. Guest speakers. Music. Tours. The whole thing. A celebration worthy of the Jet Stream Telegraph.”

Brendan looked at him.

“Henry, this is our first real job, you know.”

Henry grinned.

“Yo, B, I know. I just get excited easily.”

It did not take long for the news to spread.

A few of the Starlings had overheard Brendan and Henry talking.

Not that they had been listening.

By lunchtime, half the Woodland knew that housing was open in the North Valley, a grand opening was coming soon, and there would be music, food, tours, and fun.

Residents who needed housing began pouring into the valley.

So did a few residents who already had perfectly good homes but had decided they might be ready for an upgrade.

Brendan and Henry were overwhelmed almost immediately.

They had housing requests from every direction, families asking which units were available, arguments over who had seen a burrow first, and they had not even started planning the grand-opening celebration.

By midafternoon, both of them were sweating.

That was when Shannon Bluebird came flying in like a breath of fresh air.

“Okay, boys. Don’t sweat the small things.”

Brendan looked around at the crowd.

“Which part is the small thing?”

“All of it,” Shannon said. “Stop everything.”

The two builders stopped.

“You boys go do what you do best and build something. Let me and my associates do what we do best — plan and organize.”

Shannon went to work.

She recruited Robin and several of her Bluebird friends, then spoke with her cousins, the Blue Jays, and arranged for a special edition of the Jet Stream Telegraph announcing the opening of a new Woodland Housing Office at the entrance to the North Valley.

Brendan and Henry were put in charge of building the office and the signage.

Soon, instead of rushing from burrow to burrow, Woodland residents were lining up to properly secure one of the new homes.

Shannon created a simple rental and occupancy agreement so everyone knew which home belonged to whom and the squabbles over homesites would stop before winter.

Then she turned her attention to the grand opening.

Robin was placed in charge of food.

“And Robin?”

“Yes?”

“We have to serve more than Worm Cobbler.”

Robin looked slightly offended.

Shannon moved on.

Reluctantly, she put Bub in charge of entertainment.

“This is a one-day event,” she warned him. “Keep it brief.”

Bub nodded solemnly.

Nobody believed him.

Brendan and Henry would welcome everyone to the North Valley complex, and the keynote speaker would be Phineas Hopper XVI.

Within a couple of days, the whole operation was running smoothly.

The Jet Stream announced the opening of the new Housing Office and set the celebration for the following Tuesday, just after the second Emergency Warning System test.

Mrs. O had been watching all of it.

So had Sam.

When Sam heard that Phineas Hopper XVI would be the keynote speaker, he opened his notebook and wrote:

BLUEBIRDS INFLUENCED BY THE HOPPER????

Then he underlined it twice.

Shannon was already making steady progress in the new Housing Office.

Brendan and Henry were there too, finishing the last few items on their punch list before turning the building over to her.

Henry had just started explaining one of the signs when a dark shadow passed over the doorway.

A moment later, Mrs. O dropped from the treetops and landed almost silently beside them.

Henry looked at Brendan and sighed.

“Man, she does that a lot.”

Mrs. O ignored him.

She turned to Shannon.

“How are things going?”

Shannon gave her a complete rundown.

The new housing system would cover the North Valley units as well as Paw Paw’s birdhouses. Every home would be recorded before occupancy. Woodland residents would know which dwellings were available, which were already spoken for, and where to go before moving in.

Then Shannon explained the grand-opening program — food, tours, speakers, entertainment, the special edition of the Jet Stream, and the schedule for the celebration.

Mrs. O listened without interrupting.

By the time Shannon finished, even Mrs. O seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

The attention to detail was remarkable.

Finally Mrs. O asked, “Who gave you responsibility for all of this?”

Shannon shrugged.

“Well… it needed done, so we did it.”

Mrs. O looked at her for a long moment.

Then she smiled.

“That,” she said quietly, “is usually where responsibility begins.”

Mrs. O lifted her head.

“Then I believe the Woodland should make something official.”

Shannon blinked.

“From this point forward, Shannon Bluebird will serve as Director of Community Housing and Development and Organizer of Public Events.”

For once, Shannon had no immediate response.

Brendan leaned toward Henry and whispered,

“We need a bigger sign.”

Henry nodded.

“Definitely.”

Mrs. O turned her head slowly toward them.

Both builders suddenly found the punch list very interesting.