High on a gentle forest hill stood a giant, old oak tree with a wide, warm hollow inside its trunk. This was the home of Barnaby Bear. Barnaby was a chubby brown bear cub with a warm heart, soft rounded ears, and big fuzzy paws.

The autumn evening was cool and calm. Golden leaves floated down from the branches, softly touching the ground like little velvet blankets.

Barnaby yawned a big, slow bear yawn. "Time for bed," he whispered in his warm, sleepy voice.

Barnaby scooped up a big pile of soft, dry oak leaves with his paws. Scratch, rustle, sweep.

He carried the sweet-smelling leaves inside his cozy tree hollow and fluffed them into a big, bouncy bed.

Through the round hollow doorway, Barnaby looked out into the twilight woods. A family of little brown rabbits was hopping home across the mossy grass.

"Goodnight, Barnaby," called the little rabbits softly.

"Goodnight, rabbits," Barnaby rumbled back gently.

A cool night breeze blew through the oak leaves overhead—shhh-shhh, shhh-shhh.

Inside the hollow, it was warm, quiet, and completely safe. Barnaby turned around three times, settled down into the middle of his leaf bed, and pulled a soft blue blanket up to his chin.

His heavy paws grew soft and relaxed. His nose twitched happily as he breathed in the sweet scent of dry wood and pine.

Outside, a single yellow firefly floated past the hollow, blinking a quiet goodnight light.

Barnaby let out a long, quiet sigh of comfort. He closed his eyes, completely safe in his cozy hollow.

Goodnight, forest. Goodnight, leaves. Goodnight, Barnaby.