Little bat Emma woke up in the cozy corner of an old barn. Hanging upside down, as proper bats do, she rubbed her little eyes and stretched thoroughly. She yawned and was already looking forward to her nightly flight. Every night it was the same adventure: she listened to the rustling of mice in the straw, the distant hooting of an owl, and the buzzing of night insects. Her world was full of sounds that, with the help of her special hearing—echolocation—painted a precise map of her surroundings.
But tonight something was different.
A strange, thick silence reigned in the barn. Emma listened intently, but heard almost nothing. No breeze, no distant sounds from the forest. As if the whole world had put pillows over its ears.
"Strange," she thought to herself. She tried what she always did before taking off. She emitted a short, high sound that human ears cannot hear. Click!
Usually her echo returned clearly and quickly like a bounced ball. It showed her every post, every crack in the wood, every stalk of straw. Today, however, only a weak, unclear... nothing returned to her. As if her voice had hit a soft feather bed and gotten lost in it. The image of the world she created this way was blurred and uncertain.
Somewhat confused, she flew down lower, into the dark corner where her old friend, the wise spider Orb-Weaver, had his web. His web was a master's work, glistening in the moonlight that penetrated through a crack in the roof.
"Orb-Weaver, are you there?" Emma whispered. Her voice sounded muffled, as if it wasn't even hers.
From the web, a sturdy spider descended on a thin thread. "Of course, Emma. What's wrong? You seem troubled."
"The world is broken!" Emma blurted out. "Someone stole all the sounds! And my map doesn't work, I can't see where I'm flying!"
Orb-Weaver pondered. His eight eyes carefully watched the small, agitated bat. "Nothing is broken, and nothing has disappeared," he said calmly. "The world has simply put on a new coat. Come, let me show you something."
Together they moved to the large, half-open barn doors. Emma peeked out and gasped. The whole world was suddenly white. The meadows, trees, and road were covered with a thick, fluffy layer of fresh snow. It looked magical, but for Emma it was still a mystery.
"Try calling now," Orb-Weaver suggested.
Emma took a deep breath and squeaked. Click! The sound seemed to fly into that white feather bed and completely disappear in it. Nothing bounced back at all.
"See? It still doesn't work!" she complained.
"Good," said Orb-Weaver. "Then let's try a different experiment. Find a small stone."
Emma easily found one in the barn by the wall. She brought it in her claws.
"Now drop it here, on the wooden floor," the spider advised.
Emma dropped the stone. CLOP! The sound was sharp, clear, and loud. It echoed throughout the barn.
"And now," Orb-Weaver continued, pointing to the snow outside, "take another one and drop it there."
Emma took a similar stone and carefully dropped it into the snow. Poof.
The sound was almost inaudible. It was just a soft, quiet thud, as if the stone had fallen into flour.
Emma looked at Orb-Weaver with surprise. She was beginning to understand.
"Do you understand now?" Orb-Weaver smiled. "That white, fresh snow is very soft and full of air between the flakes. When any sound hits it, like your call or a falling stone, it doesn't bounce back. The snow simply absorbs it, as if it drank it up. That's why everything is so quiet."
Emma's eyes lit up. So the world wasn't broken! It just had on a winter, soundproof coat.
"That means I have to fly more carefully?" she asked.
"Exactly," Orb-Weaver nodded. "You have to rely more on your eyes and fly slower. But you'll also discover new sounds. Listen carefully."
Emma fell silent and listened with her whole body. Suddenly she heard something she had never noticed before. A quiet swoosh-swoosh, as more snowflakes fell to the ground. She heard the gentle crack of a twig under the weight of snow. The quiet world had its own mysterious music.
She understood that she didn't need to be afraid. She just had to learn to perceive the world differently. She thanked the wise spider and with new courage flew out into the quiet, white night. She flew slowly, savoring the magical silence and discovering the beauty of a world she had just learned to listen to in a completely new way.
And maybe, when fresh snow falls next time, you too might try to notice that the world is suddenly much quieter. Maybe you'll even hear how individual flakes gently touch the ground.