A Nest for Celeste by Henry Cole Read Free Book Online Page A

hog seemed to be asleep. Celeste climbed up onto one of the rails and called out.
    “Hello!”
    The hog woke up with a quick snort. He was enormous, with friendly, curious eyes.
    “Hmm? Who’s that?” he asked.
    “Sorry to interrupt your nap,” Celeste said, “but could you direct me to the nearest dogwood tree?”
    “Dogwood? With the little red berries? Follow your nose! End of the fence there’s a dogwood. Just stay on the fence rail and you’re there!”
    “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Celeste called out as her tiny paws scampered along the split rail. And indeed, ahead of her she saw a small tree laden with red fruit.
    “Hey! Get inside!” she heard the hog grunt after her. “Storm’s comin’!”

    Now to find the dogwood tree.
    She decided to turn right, and dodged around ivy vines and iris leaves, nearly bumping into a fat, brown toad.
    “Hey, dearie! Where’s the fire?” the toad croaked.
    Celeste gulped. She had never seen anything that looked quite like this.
    “Hello,” she stammered. “I’m looking for a dogwood tree…but I’m not sure where it is. I can’t get my bearings…. Do you know of any nearby?”
    “Dogwood, eh?” answered the toad. “Yep. You’re heading the wrong way. Turn around; head straight, all the way to the corner of the house. Can’t miss it.”
    “Thank you very much!” Celeste turned and started off. She heard a rumble of thunder not far off as the storm started to blow in.
    “Better be fast, dearie!” the toad called after her. “Storm’s comin’! Feels like it’s going to be a big one!”

    The toad watched Celeste race away, then hopped into the protection of the ivy vines. “Yep,” she croaked to herself. “Every bump on my skin can feel it. It’s going to be a real big one!”

 
     
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Storm
    C eleste ran along the edge of the stone foundation, hurrying beneath an arching tunnel of azalea and camellia bushes. At the corner of the pen she arrived at last at the dogwood, branching low to the ground and easily climbed. Not too high, but at the ends of the branches, she saw red and green berries.
    Up she went, nimbly scrambling along a branch until she came to ripening clusters of the dogwood fruit. Immediately she began nibbling off berries and stowing them in her basket.
    Suddenly the thunder stopped rumbling and started crackling.
    “Chew! Chew faster!” Celeste said to herself. Her jaw began to ache. By the time she had just a small bit of room left in her basket, the first drops of rain began to fall. Each as big as her ear, the drops fell from the black sky like spears. They pummeled her, nearly knocking her off the branch, nearly blinding her. Others struck her back and shoulders, drenching her fur. Then, with an eerie roar, the wind picked up and tossed the treetops.
    The leaves around Celeste were flattened and beaten as the rain increased. Drops slashed at her face. Rivulets ran down the tree trunk and then gathered into streams and waterfalls.
    What had been low rumbles of thunder churned into waves of crackling fury as lightning flashed in the sky. Trickles of rainwater on the ground quicklybecame streams, then torrents, turning reddish brown with clay.

    A crash of lightning hit so close by it seemed inches away, shaking and rattling windows of the house, and Celeste screamed in terror. In the brilliant flashes she could see rivers of water everywhere and a tangle of wet, flapping leaves. Disoriented and terrified, she floundered through the chaos, trying to find her way back down the branch.
    The wind increased even more, rocking the tree and buffeting Celeste back and forth, rattling the roof of the barn, and blowing bits of leaves and debris into the sky like gunshot.
    A particularly furious gust of wind whipped the branches of the small tree, and Celeste struggled to hang on. The basket of berries was ripped from her, and it flew away, lost in the swirling maelstrom. And then she finally lost her grip and