The days had flown past since Amelia had arrived at the cottage in the woods. There was so much work to get everything back in shape since it had been neglected for so long.

Mornings she would waken slowly in the pooffy armchair, wrapped in the duvet, listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace. She would lounge for a few minutes before finally getting up, stretching, and bathing in front of the fire, which would obligingly perk up a bit to keep her warm on the colder days. She’d hang the fluffy white towel on its peg near the fireplace to dry afterwards.

Next, breakfast! Since the cottage had made the kitchen area available, Amelia was able to make her favorite more easily — beans on toast! Nothing fancy, but it filled the empty bits, and she had stockpiled quite a few tins of beans in her first few shopping trips to Sandy’s market.

She always toasted a few extra slices of bread, and soon enough Beige and Blue would come in to join her, very politely eating from the plate she put on the table next to hers. They would chirp and cackle with her as they ate, between pecks at the food.

Whisper, it turned out, was not a morning wisp, and usually slept in, toasting herself on the top warming surface of the huge brick oven. Usually, after the breakfast dishes were done and the birds had flown off on their morning errands, the glow ball would rise from her spot in the kitchen, her color fading from her “I’m nice and toasty warm” brick red to a dark, dull green glow that seemed to mean “I’m grumpy and hungry”. This turned to her usual happy bright green glow as she feasted on the toffee that Amelia always thoughtfully left out on the table for her. That put a little more zing in her flight.

While Whisper had her morning toffee, Amelia would pack a lunch for the day. Usually a sandwich on thick slices of buttered bread, with some packets of crisps and sweets to round out the corners.

Monty had fashioned her a very nice tiffin box for her to carry her lunch in. She loved it! It had four separate round trays that stacked together, with a nice sturdy bale handle. Which meant she could even pack soups, stews, or other foods if she wanted, but never did, not having a place to heat them out in the woods while she was working.

Of course, tiffin carriers were round, and loaves were usually rectangular, which meant wasted space. So Monty had also made her a round loaf pan so she could bake bread to just the perfectly fitting size, which solved that problem nicely!

Once everyone was fed and the cottage tidied up, Amelia would start working on projects. Most of these had taken several days, so would start with a trip to the shed for tools, then off to clear, clean, rearrange, or whatever was needed. When one project was finished, if the next wasn’t obvious, she would take a walk over to Alder and ask his opinion on what to tackle. The wise old oak kept tabs on all the comings and goings in the wood and knew the most urgent problems to pursue.

Amelia would work for several hours before breaking for lunch. Whisper would usually accompany her, keeping a watchful eye out for anything Amelia missed, and just generally keeping her company. And helping eat any toffee or sweets on offer at lunch or snack time, of course.

Sometimes Blue and Beige or one of their many brethren would also hang out with her, depending on how noisy or messy the work was. The birds like to sit on nearby tree branches and sing and gossip, and she would whistle along with whatever tune they felt like making.

When it finally started getting dark, Amelia would tidy away whatever she was working on, gather her tools and supplies, and head back to the cottage. There she would clean, sharpen, and oil the tools she had used, then put them away in the shed.

The cottage always had the fire nicely crackling away as she went inside, and the first thing she would do would be to mix up some bread dough and let it start proofing in the warm kitchen.

As the bread rose, the cottage would have a steaming ewer of water ready for her evening wash. She got very dirty most days, covered in mud, leaves, sap, and other trimmings, bits and bobs. An evening wash was always called for.

That done, she’d clean up any mess left over on the floor, hang up the towel to dry again, then put the bread on to bake.

Then it was time to think about dinner!

Most days, dinner was something heated up from a tin, along with generous slices of homemade bread. Possibly toast if she was feeling the need for some crunch. Sometimes she made pasties or toasties or other pastry items in the oven. That huge brick oven had more room than she knew what to do with. You could probably fit a few full-sized pizzas in there, which was definitely on the list of things to try in the near future.

Usually, once dinner was done, the bread would be finished, and Amelia would take it out and store it in the bread box Monty had made, ready for the next day. Sometimes it wouldn’t be ready yet, so she would spend some time playing with Whisper or learning a new song from Beige or Blue, or just generally lounging around.

She had to be careful not to get comfy in the armchair of an evening, as it was very hard to get out of its enveloping embrace to get back up. So she always found something else to keep her occupied until all the chores were done.

Finally ready to settle in for the night, the fire would dim down a bit, but not too much since it was the only light source once the sun had gone down. She would curl up in the armchair, wrapped in her duvet. If the day had been particularly hard or long, she might just go straight to sleep. But most nights she would read one of the books she had borrowed from Sandy or Maisy until it was time to drift off.

There wasn’t a real library within walking distance of the cottage — the closest was several towns over. Sandy had a shelf in the store for a lending library, but the selection was a bit spotty. Mostly books on farming or almanacs, or the romances that Sandy seemed to love. Maisy, the potter and wife of Monty, the tinker, was an avid true crime novel reader. Amelia didn’t particularly care for any of those, but would rather have something to read than not. Almanacs, it turned out, were powerful soporifics, and were very hard to read through.

That was the schedule that Amelia fell into over her first several weeks at the cottage. The wood was gradually cleared of excessive undergrowth. Paths were carved and maintained. Leaves were raked, creeks were unclogged, wrongs were righted.

But today, today was berry-picking day!

Alder had informed her that there were many varieties of berry bushes in the wood, and had asked Beige and Blue to guide her to them. It turned out that Whisper, despite having lived in the woods all her life, knew nothing of berries, other than eating them. She made very pretty light displays with her glows, though, every time she got to try a new variety.

Unfortunately, it had been a bit early in the season to pick, and then things had just been busy. But the day had finally come to do some gathering, and Amelia was eager to do so!

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Like usual, she packed her lunch in her tiffin box. But instead of taking tools from the shed, she gathered the bucket and several baskets she had acquired from Sandy. She would probably have to make several trips, but it paid to be prepared!

Picking went smoothly, excepting a few pricks and gouges from the occasional thorn. Such was the cost for excellent fruit!

The berries quickly accumulated, sorted into the various baskets and bucket. Mixed berry jam was on the menu eventually, but to start with she kept everything separate.

Of course, each new bush had to be sampled, for quality control don’t you know! Amelia’s mouth and lips were stained blackish red from the combination of different varieties. Beige and Blue had long since eaten their fill and just watched with amusement as Whisper would lift off sluggishly from her perch on Amelia’s head to try out a new sample, then totter back to her food coma until the next bush was started.

The group had made several trips back to the cottage to unload their bounty, and the sink and every available surface was piled high.

It seemed like most of the birds of the wood had also dropped by to check in on them, and Amelia had dutifully shared some of the pickings with each one. Some were even brave enough to land on her and eat out of her palm, but even the more timid ones got their share, just left on the ground at a distance.

One particularly cute bird, with the same coloration as Beige, had followed them for some time, although it had never taken any of the berries Amelia offered it. It preferred to sit at some distance and watch the antics of the other birds, Whisper, and the young lady as she worked. On occasion, it would let out a beautiful trill escape its beak, and when it did all the other birds would sing along for as long as the song lasted. Amelia tried her best to duplicate the song, but it was complex, with many fast notes and sounds she couldn’t quite get. It was lovely to listen to, and she welcomed the companionship.

It was just edging towards evening, and Amelia was picking some of the last fruit that she could reach from a rather thorny bush. There were a few plump berries she couldn’t quite get to, and she was trying to decide if it was worth it to head back and get the rake, or leave them for another day.

She tried jumping and grabbing but only managed to drive a thorn deeply into her finger. She pulled the thorn out with her teeth and sucked on the finger for a minute. Her hands were so covered in juice from the day’s work that the tiny trickle of blood actually tasted sweet.

She was a bit started by the sudden flap of wings, then saw the bird that had led the singing swoop down to the bush, where it started tugging the unreachable fruit loose and dropping it to the ground.

“Thank you!” said Amelia. That was completely unexpected.

The bird nodded towards her, giving a short warble, then finished plucking.

Amelia gathered everything, then held out her palm with the juiciest, ripest-looking pieces she had.

“Are you sure you don’t want any? You’ve been great company all day, and that was really helpful! I’d love to repay you!”

The beige-and-cream colored bird cocked its head at her, still high up in the bush. It appeared to consider the offer deeply as its eye turned from Amelia’s to the proffered berries.

It seemed to come to a conclusion and winged a short way away to where several thorny bushes formed a cluster on a small knoll nearby. It landed on a tree limb above the bushes, then started warbling a peculiar song, very unlike anything Amelia had heard so far.

The bird seemed to put her all into the song, swaying back and forth as the sound burbled forth.

Moments later, the thorny bushes writhed a bit, then leaned away from each other, forming a path between their spiny limbs. One of the last rays of sunlight fell along the path and landed on a berry bush that had been protected in their depths.

The glorious round fruit was iridescent, the surface looking like oil slicks. The colors changed as you looked at them, and glinted in the waning light.

“Pick some of these if you please. These are the best in the wood, and my favorite. I would be honored to share them with you” said the bird as it finished its song.

Amelia was surprised at first but remembered Alder (a talking oak, after all!) had said that some of the wood spirits would speak if they so chose.

“Thank you! They look wonderful!”

“They are! I think you will love them as much as I do!” twittered the bird.

It had a lovely speaking voice. High-pitched, but amazingly modulated, and spoke with perfectly crisp enunciation.

Amelia filled a basket with the shiny fruit and this time the bird deigned to sample some from her hand.

“I’m so sorry — I forgot to introduce myself!” she said as the bird nibbled. “I’m Amelia, the new caretaker of the forest. What is your name?”

“I am Lark, who sings for the wood. I am pleased to meet you, Caretaker Amelia. I have watched you since you arrived. I was wary at first since your predecessor was not an acceptable caretaker. But you have worked hard and respected the wood, and I am happy to welcome you. Enjoy the fruit of the [untranslatable] bush, one of very few in the forest. You are welcome here.”

Amelia smiled at the bird's kind words. She had no idea what the bush was, but she popped one of the berries into her mouth.

Delicious was far too gentle a word for the taste explosion. The flavor was both intense and subtle, and she stood there for several minutes enjoying the sensation, eyes closed as she savored it.

“Divine, are they not? Take care, or they will spoil you for all the lesser berries of the wood, as I have been spoiled” said Lark, cleaning her beak after eating several.

“Wow! They are so perfect a jam or a pie would be a waste of their potential!”

“I would advise saving them and to eat sparingly. They will last for a very long time before spoiling, so there is no rush to consume them—other than their delightful flavor. Perhaps in days to come, you will find the right way to prepare them to surpass their raw form.”

Amelia nodded. She would have to find a safe space to store the berries — she was pretty sure Whisper would gorge herself on the amazing fruit if she wasn’t careful!

Lark hopped from the high branch and landed on Amelia’s shoulder, then used her beak to preen a twig caught in the girl’s hair.

Amelia watched the little bird for a moment, then hefted the baskets and bucket and headed back to the cottage. Luckily the wood wasn’t all that large, and she was rarely more than a few minutes walk from home. A good thing when carrying tools or supplies.

Lark seemed quite happy to ride the whole way. The cute little bird only flew off as she opened the door to the cottage, bidding her goodbye for the evening.

Once inside, she found a snug little cupboard in the kitchen to place the new berries, then surveyed the mountains of fruit everywhere else in the room. It was a good thing she didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry after all the “quality control” she had done throughout the day since there was just barely room to make bread for tomorrow. Cooking anything beyond that was out of the question until she got better organized in here.

It would take a bit of juggling, but she had plenty of jars ready for preserves, she thought, and once she started boiling down the fruit that would help quite a bit. It would just be a bit snug in the kitchen for the next few days.

Snug, but the fruity aroma was a welcome addition to the smell of bread baking, and she could just taste the fresh jam she would be eating on her own fresh bread very soon!

Those special berries, though, that Lark had led her to, those would be saved for something truly scrumptious. She wasn’t sure what that would be, yet, but trusted the bird that they would keep for a while. Maybe she would ask Sandy or Maisie if they had any good recipe books.

Or maybe Alder would have an idea. Although perhaps an oak tree wasn’t the best source for cooking information. It did like pie, though, so who knew?

—-

The next two days were spent boiling, straining, crushing, and generally mess-making to process the majority of the haul into a variety of jams, jellies, and preserves. She had quickly run out of jars, despite the stockpile she had made, and had to place a large order with Sandy so she could finish her work. Luckily canning and jarring was a common activity for farmers and villagers, so she was able to get what she needed without much of a delay.

In the end, one wall of the living room had been piled high from floor to ceiling with the result of all her hard work.

At least, until she woke up the next morning. Where the pile had been, on the wall that should have backed onto the shed, was another door. Unlike the kitchen, this one had a snug fitting door, and when opened led into a little pantry space, lined with shelves and pleasantly cool despite the warmth the fire and oven kept in the rest of the cottage.

The jars were neatly lined up along the shelves, and even the “special” berries had a space, in a secure, glass-fronted bin.

Apparently, the cottage approved of canning! And had absolutely no truck with the laws of physics!