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Polly the parrot loved to talk, sing, and copy every sound she heard.

One sunny morning, she flew over a wide, green field that shimmered like a soft, leafy ocean.

The field was filled with tall grass, yellow flowers, and busy bugs humming tiny songs.

Polly perched on a wooden fence post and called out, “Hello, hellooo!” just to hear her voice echo.

To her surprise, the field answered back.

The wind rushed through the grass with a soft “whooosh,” and Polly copied it perfectly, “Whooosh!”

A grasshopper leaped by, chirping a quick, squeaky rhythm.

Polly tilted her head, listened closely, and chirped back the same little tune.

Soon a shy brown mouse peeked out from a burrow near Polly’s post.

“Is the field talking to you too?” the mouse asked quietly.

Polly puffed up her feathers proudly.

“Yes! It speaks with wind, bugs, and rustling leaves, and I can repeat it all,” she said.

The mouse giggled and pointed to a patch of daisies.

“When the wind blows, they dance like they’re clapping for you. Listen to their leaves.”

A gentle breeze passed, and the daisy leaves rubbed together with a tiny “shhh, shhh.”

Polly copied, “Shhh, shhh,” and the mouse clapped its paws in delight.

More animals began to gather—two rabbits, a beetle, and a sleepy old turtle.

They sat in a circle, watching Polly echo every sound the field made.

As the sun started to set, the field grew quieter and turned golden-orange.

Polly softly repeated the last whispers of the grass, like a bedtime lullaby.

“Come back tomorrow,” said the mouse, curling into a ball.

“The field has new sounds every day.”

Polly nodded and spread her bright wings.

“I will,” she promised, and the whispering field seemed to sigh a happy goodnight.