When I woke up on October 32nd one morning, I was shocked to see that the snow was already falling down in bits and pieces. Excited, I shook Figaro, who snorted once before sleepily opening his eyes.
“FIG! Fig! It’s snowing!” I exclaimed, dragging him to the window.
He stood up and squinted at the glass. “It’s only October Thirty-Second…” he muttered. Then his eyes popped out of his face. “WHOA! It IS snowing!”
He decided to take me and Georgia (at the time, our neighbor’s child) to the Blue Forests and do some sledding in the first snow! Normally Fig doesn’t get too excited about adventuring, but this time seemed to be different as he immediately started putting on his scarf to go out. I was happy to see him so excited, so I quickly got dressed too.
After twenty minutes of hiking to the top of a huge snowy hill (at least 60 feet tall!!), we placed our orange peel sled down and sat inside of it (with some arranging of course). As expected, the snow felt crunchy and pristine as we trudged through it. Huh, I pondered to myself. Normally, Fig would think this hill is way too huge to slide down and say we’re gonna get hurt or something if we crash.
Before I could say anything out loud, Fig started pushing off our sled, and we slowly began to slide down the hill. We picked up much more speed after about 10 feet down. Soon, we had to grab on to the sides of the sled tightly as the icy wind slapped our faces!
We sped down the hill even faster, so fast that my lips and eyelids kept flying open due to the wind resistance! Tears flew out of my eyeballs because the wind was so cold! For a second, I began to get worried that Fig may have had lost his MIND, since he was whooping and yelling (normally I’m the one whooping as we go on crazy adventures)!!
Suddenly, as we flew down the near-vertical hill at a speed no less than sound, I catch a glance of … the edge of a CLIFF! It was too late, though, as we were going so fast that we flew right off the cliff-edge before I could scream!!
WHOOOOOSH!! We soon became airborne and I SCREAMED as we blasted through the air, holding on to the sled for dear life!! I look down briefly and saw nothing but rows and rows of sharp pine trees at least 20 feet below us.
I SHRIEKED even LOUDER and squeezed my eyes shut as we started to fall downward! I grasped the sides of the sled with every single brain cell I had! My life flashed before my very eyes! I braced for impact! I braced for impact (again)! I-
“Are you okay?” Fig asked, his voice totally calm yet slightly concerned.
I opened my eyes slowly and saw that we were moving sideways (George was asleep!?) on top of the pine trees, which did not skewer our sled like I thought they would.
Fig laughed. “Did you really think that I’d take us sledding if it was actually dangerous? Hahahaha!”
“I thought you lost your mind or something!” I exclaimed, my eyes widening.
“Nah,” Figaro chuckled. “Never would I lose my mind. Unless there was something majorly wrong with me! I would never get my friends into dangerous situations ever.”
I looked over the orange peel sled and touched the snow-covered pines. Upon further inspection, it looked like the trees were bending over and passing our sled over to each other (like crowd surfing but with trees!).
As if he read my mind, Figaro told me that there’s a legend around these parts that a GIANT SPIKY BLOBFISH lives underneath the Blue Mountains! It supposedly came around in the olden days where all animals were mega-sized (like the dinosaurs) and the blobfish buried itself under the ground to run from a MASSIVE rock-eating tiger, all while growing trees from its body. And, on the first day of snow, the blobfish will move its spikes (pine trees) to both 1) guide lost travelers out of the forest and 2) push things on top of pine trees to the end of the forest. So, according to the legend, we were being protected and guided out by the very blobfish itself!
That’s crazy sounding, but I’ve learned that almost anything can happen in Punnygarden! So, I will keep an eye out for the blobfish in future adventures for sure.
At the end of our journey, the pine trees gently laid our sled down at the edge of the forest. I was going to pick up our sled and leave immediately, but Fig insisted (with a sharp glare) that we thank the Blobfish for its guidance. So, we placed our hands on the ground (with the dirt cleared) and mentally thanked them with all our heart and positive energy. When we got up and headed back home, somehow I felt like the trees bowed to us a little, as if saying “you’re welcome.”