The Sky Before Morning

The Sky Before Morning

Hugo was a little bear who loved to sleep. He loved his cozy cave, his fluffy moss bed, and especially his favorite blanket made of dandelion fluff. But one night, something peculiar happened—Hugo simply couldn’t fall asleep.

He counted stars. He counted fireflies. He even tried counting the spots on a very patient ladybug. Nothing worked.

“Perhaps,” thought Hugo, “a little walk will make me sleepy.”

So he padded softly out of his cave, careful not to wake his mama, and stepped into the world that belonged to night.

The forest was different in the darkness—not scary, but magical. Everything whispered instead of talked. The trees swayed like they were dancing to a lullaby only they could hear. Hugo walked down a path he’d traveled a hundred times in daylight, but now it sparkled with dewdrops that looked like tiny moons.

That’s when he met Celeste, a barn owl with feathers as silver as starlight.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked kindly, her big eyes blinking slow and wise.

“Not even a wink,” Hugo admitted.

“Ah,” said Celeste. “Then you’re just in time for the best part of the whole day.”

“But it’s nighttime,” Hugo said, confused.

Celeste ruffled her wings mysteriously. “Not for long. Follow me, little bear. I’ll show you the sky before morning—the most special time that only the sleepless ones get to see.”

Hugo was curious, so he followed Celeste through the whispering woods. They walked past sleeping rabbits curled in furry circles, past a pond where frogs had stopped their croaking, past a family of deer dreaming under an oak tree.

Soon they came to a meadow on top of a gentle hill.

“Now,” said Celeste, “we wait. But not for long.”

Hugo sat down in the soft grass, and Celeste perched on a fencepost beside him. Together, they looked up at the sky.

At first, everything seemed the same. The stars still twinkled. The moon still glowed, round and buttery yellow. But then, Hugo noticed something changing.

“The stars are fading!” he whispered.

“Not fading,” Celeste corrected gently. “They’re going to sleep, just like you should be doing.” She winked one enormous eye.

And she was right. One by one, the stars grew dimmer, like someone was turning down their brightness, tucking them in for the day.

Then the sky itself began to change.

The deep navy blue started to soften, like someone was mixing in drops of lighter paint. Hugo watched in wonder as the darkness slowly, slowly turned to indigo, then to purple, then to the most beautiful shade of lavender he’d ever seen.

“It’s like the sky is waking up,” Hugo breathed.

“The sky is stretching,” said Celeste. “Just like you do when you wake up in your cozy cave.”

Hugo noticed something else then. Birds he’d never seen before began to appear. They were quiet birds, soft birds, the in-between birds that only flew in the sky before morning.

A nighthawk swooped by, finishing its last hunt. A mourning dove cooed its gentle song. And somewhere in the distance, Hugo heard the first robin of morning practicing its wake-up call.

The lavender sky grew lighter still, shifting to the palest pink, like the inside of the seashell Hugo had found by the river.

“Watch the horizon now,” Celeste instructed, pointing one wing toward where the earth met the sky.

Hugo watched, his little bear eyes growing wider and wider.

The pink began to deepen along the edge of the world, turning to coral, then peach, then a brilliant orange that looked like it was glowing from within. Streaks of gold started painting themselves across the sky, as if an invisible artist was making the most beautiful picture ever created.

“Every morning is different,” Celeste whispered. “No two skies before morning are ever the same. This one is painting itself just for you, Hugo.”

Hugo felt something warm and peaceful spread through his chest, right where his heart lived. The sky kept changing, putting on its morning clothes one color at a time. The clouds—which had been invisible in the darkness—suddenly appeared, their edges rimmed with golden light.

A deer wandered into the meadow, blinking sleepily. Then another. Then three rabbits, their noses twitching at the new day.

“They’re all waking up,” Hugo said softly.

“And you,” said Celeste, looking at him carefully, “are getting sleepy at last. I can see it in your eyes.”

It was true. Hugo’s eyes felt heavy now, like tiny pebbles were resting on his eyelids. His whole body felt warm and peaceful, like he was wrapped in the softest sunset.

“The sky before morning is peaceful,” Celeste explained. “It’s quiet. It’s gentle. It’s the world taking a deep breath before the busy day begins. And now that you’ve seen it, you’re carrying that peace inside you.”

Hugo yawned, a big bear yawn that showed all his little teeth.

“Come on,” said Celeste. “I’ll fly you home before you miss the best part.”

“But I’ve seen it all,” Hugo said sleepily. “The colors, the changes, the magic…”

“Not quite,” Celeste smiled.

She flew low and slow, and Hugo walked beneath her, back through the meadow, back past the waking deer, back through the forest that was starting to fill with birdsong.

When they reached Hugo’s cave, the sky had turned to the palest blue, like a robin’s egg.

Hugo’s mama was still sleeping soundly. His moss bed looked more inviting than ever. His dandelion blanket seemed to call to him.

“Lie down,” Celeste whispered from the entrance of the cave. “And watch.”

Hugo snuggled into his bed, his head on his soft moss pillow, and looked out through the cave opening at the sky.

And then it happened.

The very first ray of sunlight broke over the mountains in the distance, turning everything it touched to gold. It was like the whole world was waking up and smiling at the same time.

“That’s the best part,” Celeste said softly. “The very first light. The sun saying good morning to everyone, even to sleepy little bears who stayed up all night.”

Hugo smiled, his eyes already closing.

“Thank you, Celeste,” he mumbled. “The sky before morning was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It will be there every morning,” Celeste promised. “But it’s always special to see it for the first time. Sleep now, Hugo. Dream of colors and gentle things.”

And Hugo did sleep, deeply and peacefully, while the world outside grew bright and busy. He dreamed of lavender skies and golden clouds, of stars going to sleep and the sun waking up, of the magical in-between time when night holds hands with day.

When Hugo finally woke up that afternoon, he told his mama all about the sky before morning. And sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, he would remember the colors and the peace and the magic of that special time.

But mostly, he slept soundly, carrying the quiet beauty of the sky before morning in his dreams.

The End

• Tags:
• Nature and Calm Stories