Did you ever notice how the moonlight on the garden makes the old rose look like a tiny lantern?

Ah, the garden does hold its breath, just like grandma’s pot of soup that steams for hours, telling tales in every bubble. Let’s sip tea, and I’ll tell you about the time the sparrows stole my apricot pie!

The sparrows came one sunny morning, chirping like tiny alarm clocks, and saw my apricot pie cooling on the windowsill. I was humming a lullaby for my cat, and the pie smelled sweet, just like summer. They swooped in, feathers ruffled, and took bites with the precision of little pastry thieves. I laughed, then chased them around the garden with my basket, calling them “my golden‑feather bandits!” By the time I caught the last one, I was wiping crumbs off my apron and thinking, “Who needs a treasure map when you have a pie and a flock of adventure seekers?” So, dear, remember: even a simple pie can be a quest, and every little bird has a story to share. And if you want, I can make you another one—just make sure it’s a secret recipe, or the sparrows might show up again!