Maple Leaf Hill

"Look, Henry, mine is still green," said Grandpa Moss, holding up a leaf.

Henry looked at the leaf. Then he looked at the big maple tree on the hill. Every leaf on it was green.

"They should be orange by now," said Henry. "It's autumn. I want to see them turn orange."

On this hill, the leaves always turned orange on the first rainy day. The hill hummed when it rained, a low, soft hum, and the leaves changed colour. Everyone knew that. Nobody thought it was strange.

But today the sky was blue and there was no rain.

"Then I'll make it rain," said Henry.

He filled his little watering can at the pump. He climbed the hill and sprinkled the tree. Splish, splish, splish.

The leaves stayed green.

"Hmm," said Henry. He tried again. He sprinkled the trunk, and then the branches he could reach.

Still green.

Henry sat down in the grass and sighed. A small brown bird landed beside him. It was pulling at a bit of straw for its nest. It did not care about leaves at all.

Henry listened. The wind rustled the grass. A bee buzzed past. But the hill did not hum.

"Oh," he said. "The hill hums when it rains. Maybe the hill has to hear it."

He put the watering can down. He pressed his hand flat on the warm ground. Then he began to hum himself, low and soft. Mmmmmm.

Nothing happened.

He hummed a little lower. Mmmmmmmm.

Under his hand, the ground trembled, just a tickle. Then the hill hummed back. Mmmmmmmm.

Up above, one green leaf turned orange. Then ten. Then a hundred, like a match catching a flame, until the whole tree glowed.

The little bird flew up in surprise. It dropped its straw right on Henry's nose.

"Achoo!" said Henry.

The hill hummed on, and the orange leaves swayed over him, warm and bright.