Secrets of Sycamore Sleep

There was a tree who went unnoticed. She admired the oak who was written about in many books and longed for the love shown to the sweet apple who's fruits fed the earth.
Every year she would spread her branches wide and send her seeds pirouetting to the ground. She remembered a time when children used to dance beneath them making noises like the planes that washed across the sky above her. Silence is all she has now, there is no love for the simple... things in a world of plenty.

One night she was dreaming of taking to the breeze like one of her seeds when she felt a rustling at her roots. A prehistoric ball of spines was heaving and shoving the ground around her. She watched curiously, happy to have company. The hedgehog looked up with glee ' Thankyou' she said 'these seeds will help make me not only the warmest but the prettiest bed for winter.' That night the hedgehog built her nest below the sycamore and slept there beneath the bare branches all winter long.

These two unlikely friends became so close that when the hedgehog awoke in spring and bumbled off into the long grass she wore two sycamore seeds like wings upon her back. Every few steps they would try to give flight to her heavy round body and it took her a long time to get used to them. The tree smiled, it was nice to have a purpose in this world even if only to give wings to those who need them.