The Great Wall of Glimmergrove
- Ross Boulton
- Apr 27
- 3 min read
Updated: May 6
When walls rise, the forest falls—but with bridges, Glimmergrove grows tall.
By Ross Boutlon (c)2025
🌳 In the heart of Glimmergrove under canopies wide,
The critters all bustled with rivers as guide.
They traded, they traveled, they followed the breeze,
Through berry-brushed meadows and moss-sprinkled trees.
🌳 But high on a throne at the top of a pine,
Sat Eagle the Bold, all puffed up and fine.
He flapped and he squawked with a blustery call:
"The forest’s too messy — we must build a wall!"
🌳 "A wall so tall it will scrape at the sky!
A wall so wide no bad bugs can fly!
We'll block all the troubles, we'll lock them away—
The BEST WALL you've seen! We'll start it today!"
🌳 The critters below blinked and scratched at their heads.
Foxes tucked tails and raccoons scratched their beds.
Beaver mumbled, "But what about streams?"
And Wrenna the Listener whispered, "What about dreams?"
🌳 But Eagle, undaunted, proclaimed with a roar:
"TRUST IN MY VISION! Now bring me some more!"
So turtles and rabbits, and beavers and deer,
Heaved piles of pebbles and logs to appear.
Chant (Audience Shout):
"BUILD IT BIG! BUILD IT WIDE!
BUILD IT HIGHER, TOUCH THE SKY!"
🌳 They stacked up the branches, they muddled the stones,
They splashed in the rivers and clogged up the cones.
They built it up crooked, they built it too steep,
Until some of the critters were stuck in a heap!
🌳 It blocked all the rivers, it split up the fields,
It toppled the berry bush Wrenna once healed.
The tadpoles were stranded, the bunnies looked glum,
The berries turned brown, and the buzzers fell dumb.
🌳 But Eagle the Bold flapped his feathers with glee:
"Look at my wall! How grand it must be!"
He perched for his gala atop the tall pile,
Inviting the critters — in bold eagle style.
🌳 Yet nobody came — not a paw, not a wing.
The wall blocked the singers, the dancers, the spring!
The feast went untouched, the trumpets fell flat,
And Eagle sat lonely — confused by all that.
🌳 Owl flapped up slowly with Wrenna and Bear,
She peered at the wall with a wise, heavy stare.
"Walls don't grow berries, nor rivers, nor song,"
She hooted so softly, "You've gotten it wrong."
🌳 "A wall may feel mighty, but might doesn't stay—
Strength is a bridge where all find their way."
Eagle the Bold blinked and ruffled his crown,
Then spotted his berries, all withered and brown.
🌳 He shuffled, he mumbled, he bumbled a shout:
"TEAR DOWN THIS WALL! We'll figure it out!"
🌳 So critters came scurrying with hooves and with paws,
They tugged and they toppled that wall with great cause.
They cleared up the rivers, they mended the trails,
And laughter returned on the berry-brushed gales.
🌳 And high in the treetops where breezes are strong,
Eagle now listens before roaring too long.
He still flaps with pride, but he nods when he's wrong—
And the bridges of Glimmergrove hum with new song.
📚Did You Know?
In real life, some leaders build giant walls to feel powerful — but true strength often comes from trust, friendship, and open pathways, just like in Glimmergrove!
Pick your favorite
Bridges grow stronger than walls.
A real leader listens before building too tall.
A real leader listens before building too tall.
Strength isn’t walls — it's trust, rivers, and song.
🖋️ Why I Wrote This
Walls can feel strong. They can feel safe. But in a forest—as in the world—they can also divide what was meant to flow, grow, and flourish together. I wrote This fable as a parable about leadership built on fear, and what happens when power forgets to listen.
Eagle the Bold is a character many of us recognize: loud, proud, and certain he's always right. But the real heart of the forest lies with the quiet voices—like Wrenna the Listener, Owl with her wisdom, and the critters who carry pebbles and questions. This story explores how walls built on ego and panic may rise quickly, but they crumble when communities remember what truly connects them: rivers, dreams, and the courage to rebuild.
In a time when shouting often drowns out song, I hope young readers—and the adults guiding them—pause to ask: Are we building bridges, or just blocking the breeze?
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