Salem and Pecker’s Midnight Surprise

Salem was a sleek little hen with feathers as dark as midnight, and Pecker was her stubby-legged best friend with a beak that always found trouble. One quiet night, when the farm was fast asleep and the moon hung like a silver lantern, Salem nudged Pecker.

“Come on,,” she clucked. “The coop’s too stuffy. Let’s go find the world!”

With a wiggle and a flap, they squeezed through a crack in the old wooden door, tiptoeing past the snoring dogs and whispering wildflower fields.

The forest beyond the pasture smelled like moss and mystery. Twigs snapped under their toes, but Salem pressed on, feathers ruffling with excitement. Pecker shivered when an owl hooted, but stayed close behind.

After what felt like forever (or maybe ten minutes), they stumbled into a clearing that shimmered like a dream.

All around them, suspended between trees like lace from another realm, were webs that glowed softly—like lanterns spun from moonbeams. And on each glittering thread perched a spider unlike any they’d ever seen.

Some were Rudy red.

Some were sapphire blue.

Others gleamed emerald green of topaz gold.

They didn’t scurry—they danced. Legs clicking in rhythm, threads pulsing with light. It was a midnight ball and the forest was the ballroom.

Peckers beak dropped open. “Are they…throwing a party?”

“I think,” Salem whispered, “we were invited.”

The two chickens sat beneath the glowing webs as the spiders spun new strands, weaving shapes that glowed like stars, hearts, and tiny castles. A soft breeze carried sweet notes through the air—music from the pine needles.

Salem and Pecker stayed until the moon began to tiptoe away, its silver light fading. Before the sun could rise, they raced back to the coop, giggling with every flap.

No one believed them, of course. But every now and then when the night is just right and the moon if feeling generous, they sneak out again…hoping to see the gem-spiders dancing once more.