The full moon, a great silver ball, made enough light in the meadows and pear orchards, so that every tree and bush could be clearly seen. Crickets were singing their last summer songs before finding snug holes and hollows to crawl into before winter.

PearBear liked the crisp, cool evenings when the air was clear and sharp, and there were no clouds to hide the sparkling stars. He sat under his favorite pear tree, playing his banjo.

PearBear played quite well, on an instrument he made himself from a hollow Alder tree trunk. It wasn't a real banjo, but it looked like one. He played a tune he had made up, and composed a song to sing along. The crickets kept time as he sang to the moon, which smiled down kindly.

His favorite pear tree was the largest in the orchard, and possibly the oldest. It sat on a hill, away from the other trees in the orchard. Its leaves were starting to turn red and gold. Leaning against its trunk, PearBear sang,

PearBear ended his song and kept on playing the tune. Now some bullfrogs down in the pond were adding their notes to his music. Very soon, from another hill, several coyotes joined in. It sounded quite nice.

Soon, PearBear noticed movement at the edge of the meadow, and Raccoon and several babies edged closer to listen. Then he saw the mouse family timidly peeking from under some fallen leaves.

They seemed to be enjoying his music, so he played and he played. Every time he looked around, he saw more of his friends coming from their night time sleeping places. Some were night creatures and wandered the forest in the moonlight. Even the fox folk were listening, beating time with their handsome plumes of tails. And of all things, he saw Cow!

Cow was supposed to be down in the valley, and asleep in the barn.

"Hi there, Cow," he said, as he stopped playing. "How did you get up here?"

"Oh, the usual," Cow replied. "Through the fence again. But I'll be home in time for breakfast. Please don't stop playing. I heard the music clear down at the barn. Makes me want to dance, it's such happy music."

PearBear thought about Cow dancing and had to hide a smile.

"But Cow," he joked. "Wouldn't dancing spoil your milk?"

Cow had a nice sense of humor. "Well," she said, "then I guess we'd have whipped cream."

PearBear started to play again, and soon the animals all joined in, some of them even singing in harmony. Several animals began to dance. PearBear had never even dreamed of Rabbit dancing with Squirrel. The baby raccoons had all joined hands and were dancing in a circle. It looked as though the field mice, at least a dozen of them, were doing some very fancy square dancing.

He even saw Spotted Owl, who flew in now and then from Old Growth Forest, sitting above his head in Favorite Pear Tree, with his great wings spread, as though he were leading a glorious symphony that filled this last summer night. Everyone was having such a good time.

Even the wild field daisies seemed to be nodding to the music, but perhaps it was only a late summer wind playing in the grass. PearBear played every song he knew, and made up a few along the way. And he played and he played his happy, friendly music, as the last full moon of the summer smiled down and spread his blanket of silvery light on all of them.

Then, suddenly, everyone stopped dancing. The crickets had stopped chirping. And the bullfrogs were quiet. PearBear discovered that he was playing his banjo all by himself. Didn't they like his music anymore, he wondered? Perhaps he should learn some new songs.

He looked around, and saw that all his friends were looking at the edge of the meadow, where the forest trees stopped. There, lying in the grass with his head on his paws, was Dog!



Story Continues in Part 2