Letters Between a Mole and a Swallow
Dear Pim,
I am writing to you from my tunnel beneath the apple orchard, where it is very dark and where, I must admit, I prefer it that way. Today I discovered a perfectly smooth white stone and a worm that was nearly as long as my paw. What did you discover?
Your friend, Mabel the Mole
Dear Mabel,
Thank you for your letter! It reached me carried on the wind, still smelling faintly of damp soil. I am writing from a telephone wire far above the fields. Today I discovered a river that shone like silver ribbon, and I flew directly over a whole town on my way. I truly wish you could see it.
Your friend, Pim the Swallow
Dear Pim,
I cannot see your river, but I believe every word you say. Last week you told me that the sky is bigger than any tunnel, and I tried my hardest to imagine it, though I failed. Then, after the rain, I pressed my nose to the ground and smelled a thousand things all at once. Perhaps the ground is enormous in a way that you cannot see. I wish you could smell it.
Your friend, Mabel
Dear Mabel,
I have been thinking about your letter all week long. Today I landed on the orchard grass and breathed in as deeply as I possibly could. You were right. I smelled apples, rain, and old leaves. Perhaps each of us knows a different half of the world, and our letters join the halves together into a whole.
Your friend, Pim