The Bear Who Woke the Sleeping Mountain – How Barlow Helped an Ancient Peak Remember Its Dreams
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Once upon a time, in a quiet green valley surrounded by misty peaks, lived a big, gentle bear named Barlow. Barlow loved to nap. He napped in fields of flowers, under silver-leaf trees, and sometimes even halfway through his breakfast.
But the coziest naps of all were taken near the edge of the valley, where the wind was soft and the ground rumbled ever so slightly.
That rumbling, the elders said, came from Sleeping Mountain, a huge peak that hadn’t opened its eyes in a thousand years. “It snores,” the wise owl said. “Soft and low, like the world breathing.”
Barlow liked the sound. It helped him sleep too.
The Snore That Shook the Stars
One unusually chilly night, Barlow settled near the mountain’s base, curled in a bed of moss. He yawned, stretched his paws, and fell asleep quickly.
But then...
GROOOOHHH-HUMMMMMMMM!
A thunderous snore rolled down the valley. It was louder, deeper, and longer than any before. Trees shook. Pebbles danced. And Barlow…
woke up.
His eyes blinked wide. The ground beneath him quivered again.
Something inside the mountain had stirred.
The Mountain’s Yawn
The next morning, Barlow climbed a rocky trail he’d never dared before. Each step echoed with soft booms, like footsteps inside the earth. When he reached the top, he gasped.
A huge crack had formed across the mountain’s face, right between two ridges that looked oddly like sleepy eyelids.
Barlow took a deep breath and whispered,
“Are you… awake?”
The mountain replied in a voice like wind in the canyon:
“I think… I am.”
The mountain yawned, and the clouds parted. Snow swirled like sparkles, and from deep within, music like windchimes and whale songs began to rise.
Barlow sat quietly, paws tucked, listening to the mountain stretch its dreams into the sky.
The Gift of the Awakened Mountain
As the mountain fully awoke, things began to change.
Hidden springs bubbled to the surface.
Old forest trails lit up with glowing moss.
And ancient birds, long thought gone, returned—singing songs of long-ago days.
The mountain wasn’t grumpy or wild—it was peaceful, like someone who had just remembered a beautiful story.
Barlow, in his gentle way, sat each day at its edge, talking softly, telling stories of the valley below. The mountain listened.
And one morning, when Barlow woke from a nap, he found a smooth, warm stone beside him. Etched into it were the words:
“To the bear who reminded me how to dream.” So if you ever hear the hills rumble or feel the wind hum like a lullaby, listen close, it might be a mountain waking up, thanks to a bear who believed even the oldest dreams are worth hearing.
The End !
Nadeera Nilupamali
Nadeera Nilupamali
. 284 Stories
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