Board Thread:Lore Texts/@comment-25376906-20170602165902


 * 1) title:Tale of the squirrel and the spring-gnomes
 * 2) author:Vernacular tale
 * 3) type:shire,dale

Much like every year, Nutkin Squirrel had gathered a copious supply of hazelnuts and beechnuts for the winter. Of course, he also had stuffed himself with all the delicious berries and seeds of a golden autumn. When he decided to retire to his drey he almost got stuck, so tight had the entrance of his nest become, and he snuggled comfortably to rest during the cold winter months. For a fortnight he was very comfortable in the cosiness of his drey and had not a single regret about not hopping in the tree branches and meeting his many friends of the forest. But one day, a cheeky sunray came through the entrance and tickled his nose. Nutkin sneezed and straightened up. Was this not the blackbird next tree chirping gaily her song? As Nutkin left his drey (the entrance still was a bit tight) and with a friendly nod greeted his neighbour, he had to look twice to understand what had happened. Nothing had happened! Instead of growing cold and winterly, the air was warm and had a breeze of spring in it. Nutkin saw that between the roots of a mighty tree, where he had hidden a provision of nuts, a sapling stretched his leaves into the air. This did not really bother him, for he could never remember all of the hiding places where he used to burrow his provisions for the winter and the sapling was a welcomed hint. But nonetheless this was a very strange affair. Why had winter not found his way into the forest? Nutkin decided to pay a visit to his friends to see if they could not sleep as well. Together they decided to hold a council at the next half moon, on a clearing deep in the forest. When dawn of the appointed day had come, the animals of the forest appeared. Hedgehogs, badgers and dormouses there were and many other squirrels as well as a delegation of raven, who wanted to complain about the absence of frost-worms (a titbit they eagerly awaited each winter). Many other animals also arrived and some curious deer and wild boars stopped by. They were not interested in these affairs because a long and snowy winter only meant more hardship to them. In the middle of the glade the old wise Owl took his seat on an old tree stump. The council began. Everyone had a story to tell about strange folk wandering about, flowers that had awakened way before their time and some groundhogs from the north brought rumours about a mighty snow queen that reigned over a household of gnomes. The gnomes were the heralds of the seasons and a group of especially wanton spring-gnomes had escaped to create confusion in all the land. When each and every one had told their tale silence spread over the clearing. Finally, the old wise Owl flapped his wings and instructed them on what to do. A group of young and nimble weasels were appointed to catch the gnomes and bring them back to the snow queen. One of the weasel gaffers vividly advised them against tasting the gnomes, for one would feel very queer afterwards. Eventually every culprit was captured and the weasels warily brought them back to the snow queen. She promised to release them only at the beginning of spring season and looked so fierce that the weasels and Nutkin, who was accompanying them, were very frightened. When the snow queen saw their fear, her face became friendly again and she promised to halt winter in time and to be considerate of the squirrels’ supplies. And that is how Nutkin Squirrel went back to his drey with a tranquil mind and after wishing his friends a good rest. He curled up, his bushy tail touching his nose and gently passed into a peaceful sleep that would last the whole winter with only few interruptions. In spring he would wake up in a fresh and renewed world.<\pre>

This is meant to be a nice tale hobbit parents tell their children in the evening before the fireplace. It is not meant to be realistic and reflects the simple knowledge and fantasy of country folk. I think this would also fit for Dale. It is more a story told from parents to children but maybe someday a literate hobbit wrote it down. 