Mole liked collecting interesting things. Buttons, feathers, shiny pebbles. One afternoon he decided to collect clouds.

He carried a basket up the hill and held it towards the sky. But every cloud slipped through the wicker weaving. “Oh bother,” sighed Mole.

Rabbit sat beside him. “Some things aren’t meant to be kept,” she smiled. So together they watched the clouds drift across the blue sky.

And somehow that felt even better.