Goodnight to the Barnyard

Evening tiptoed over Clover Nook Farm. The gate gave a sleepy squeak, and Farmer Bea whispered, 'Almost bedtime.' In the barn, hay smelled sweet. Somewhere, one small hiccup said, 'Not yet,' from the straw pile.

Pip the piglet wriggled under a blanket of straw. 'I cannot sleep first,' he snorted. 'I might miss a moo.' Clover leaned close and hummed softly, 'Goodnight, little oink. Your mud dreams can wait tonight.'

Clover swished her tail, pretending not to yawn. 'Goodnight, Pip. Goodnight, hay. Goodnight, very patient moon.' Henny clucked from her perch, 'Moo quietly, please, dear. My eggs are listening and they startle easily.'

Henny fluffed herself like a tiny pillow. 'Goodnight, Clover. Dream of grass soup.' Her beak clicked once, then twice. Rustle, rustle. Benny was nibbling his bedtime bucket in the corner.

'Goodnight, Henny,' Benny mumbled around one last mouthful. 'Goodnight, bucket. You were delicious.' The bucket bonked his nose. He blinked, surprised, and Tilly giggled softly from the trough where the water shivered silver gently.

Tilly tucked her bill beneath one wing. 'Goodnight, Benny. May your dreams have handles.' She paddled in place, though she was not swimming. 'Goodnight, puddles,' she whispered. 'Stay splashy until morning comes to play.'

Old Nellie stamped once in the soft dust. 'Goodnight, Tilly. No splashing stars awake.' Her voice was warm as oats. From the rafters, Milo squeaked, 'Is it my turn? I practiced all day.'

Milo stood on a beam, paws shaking. 'Goodnight, Nellie,' he piped. His squeak bounced bigger than he expected. Everyone smiled. Milo puffed up proudly. 'Goodnight, crumbs everywhere, especially the secret ones under doors too.'

Saffy opened one eye from the feed sack. 'Goodnight, Milo. I shall not chase you tonight.' Milo bowed. Saffy purred, 'Goodnight, warm sack. Goodnight, twitchy tail. Behave. We are trying to sleep here now.'

Rufus circled his rug three times, then forgot why. 'Goodnight, Saffy,' he woofed gently. 'Goodnight, rug. Goodnight, front door. If anything creaks, I will whisper at it in my bravest tiny voice tonight, promise.'

Outside the stall, Dotty sneezed into the clover. 'Goodnight, Rufus. Goodnight, itchy grass.' She tried counting herself, but kept getting lost. 'One sheep, two sheep, me again. That seems plenty for bedtime, I think.'

Lou nudged Dotty's side. 'Goodnight, Mama. I am almost sleepy, except for my ears.' Dotty kissed his forehead. 'Goodnight, busy ears. Fold up like soft napkins and listen only to dreams now, sweet one.'

Grumble sighed by the half door. 'Goodnight, Lou. Goodnight, Dotty.' He had carried nothing all day, yet felt important. 'Goodnight, my strong back. Rest your royal bumps for tomorrow's serious standing around and braying.'

Gertie marched past with one last honk tucked in her throat. 'Goodnight, Grumble. No braying after moonrise.' Grumble nodded gravely. Gertie whispered, 'Goodnight, gate. Guard everyone nicely and do not squeak too much, please.'

Rusty puffed his chest. 'Goodnight, Gertie, but I wake the sun. I should practice.' He opened his beak. Every animal froze. Farmer Bea called, 'Save it for morning, dear Rusty, not the moon, please.'

Rusty swallowed his crow. 'Goodnight, Farmer Bea,' he said, smaller now. 'Goodnight, sun, wherever you are hiding.' The barn relaxed. Even the hinges seemed to breathe out softly as crickets tuned their fiddles outside together.

Farmer Bea lifted the lantern and smiled around the stalls. 'Goodnight, my noisy, nosy friends.' Pip yawned so wide he squeaked. The sound made Saffy laugh without opening her eyes or moving one paw either.

From the eaves, Ollie blinked at the lantern glow. 'Goodnight, Farmer Bea. I will keep watch.' Rufus wagged once. 'I will keep snore,' he murmured, already halfway there with his chin on slippers nearby.

Silence settled, soft and lumpy. Pip peeked over the straw. 'Did everyone say goodnight to me?' Clover opened one kind eye. 'We did, dear oink. But here is another, just in case your ears forgot.'

'Goodnight, Pip,' said Clover. 'Goodnight, Pip,' clucked Henny. 'Goodnight, Pip,' mumbled Benny, hugging his bucket. Pip's heart felt round and full. 'Goodnight, everybody,' he whispered. 'I am not missing anything now. Not one moo even.'

The moon climbed higher and silvered the water trough. Tilly's paddle feet stopped. Dotty's counting faded. Grumble's royal bumps rested. Rusty dreamed of sunrise, but quietly, very quietly, with his beak tucked tight until dawn.

Then the gate squeaked, just a tiny eeep. Pip lifted his head. Rufus opened one eye. Gertie nearly honked. Farmer Bea's voice floated back, 'Only the wind, sweet barn,' tucking the night in tighter now.

Pip listened. The wind brushed the roof like a lullaby broom. Nothing was missing. Nobody was alone. He snuggled down and let one happy snort roll into the hay where it curled up small nearby.

All through Clover Nook Farm, goodnights rested nose to nose. Barn, gate, trough, rug, perch, and pail grew still. And under the patient moon, the whole barnyard slept warm, silly, safe, and loved. Goodnight now.