The Long-Neck's Goodnight Song
When the sun slid down behind the mountains, the biggest, gentlest dinosaur in the valley lifted her long, long neck up to the pink evening sky.
Her name was Willow, and it was time for her goodnight song.
Hmmmmmm… Willow hummed, low and slow, like a big warm bell.
The song rolled out across the valley, soft as a blanket. And everywhere it went, dinosaurs got sleepy.
It drifted over the swamp, and the duckbills tucked their heads under their arms. Goodnight, duckbills.
It floated through the fern forest, and the little horned dinosaurs curled up in their nests, one, two, three. Goodnight, little ones.
It hummed around the tall rocks, and the pterodactyls folded their great wings like umbrellas closing after rain. Goodnight, flyers.
It even tiptoed down into the burrows, where the tiniest dinosaurs — no bigger than your shoe — yawned tiny yawns and snuggled tail to tail. Goodnight, tinies.
Willow hummed until the whole valley was quiet and the first stars blinked awake. Then she lowered her long, long neck, curled it gently around her own sleepy calf, and hummed the very last bit of the song just for him — the softest part, the part that means you are safe, you are loved, it’s time to dream.
Hmmmmm… The song got slower.
Hmmm… And softer.
Hmm. And then the valley was asleep — every dinosaur, big and small, wrapped in the same warm song.
Now close your eyes and listen. If you’re very still, maybe you can hear it too — a low, gentle hum, all the way from long, long ago, saying goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.
The end. 🦕
Talk about it together
- Who sings or reads to you at bedtime?
- Can you hum a low, slow goodnight song?
- Which dinosaur would you tuck in first?