A morning in Tasmania
After a murky night of hunting, a weary Tasmanian devil scurries to his burrow to sleep the day away. To get to his underground lair, he must scamper over a lifeless fallen tree, cross a babbling brook, and race thru scattered ferns. Taz claws at the wet, mossy bark and fungi to climb the fallen tree and hurry to his home. At the brook, Taz sniffs the air to makes sure there are no humans around, and dashes under a raging waterfall into an underground cavern. From hear, he must climb up leafy vines to get to the surface again. As he peeks over the top of the hole, he startles a few bettong. As the bettong run away, they upset a bed of rusty red flowers, the waratah, sending a shower of pastel petals cascading down to the earth. As Taz doges tufts of emerald grass he passes a majestic mountain with pine covered slopes and a white peak. Taz slips on the glistening dewdrops that cover the fallen leaves. Finally, Taz slows as he reaches his destination, a towering tree with long, thick branches that seem to hold up the brightening sky. Taz dives for a hole under the trees massive roots and peeps out to see the scarlet and golden sun rise over the cobalt clouds, then with a flick of his tail, he settles down for a good days sleep.
The End