I stepped out of the back door and went looking if the tiny March violets had already appeared. Just behind the stone wall where the snowdrops grow and the crocuses, I stood still. I heard the rustling of leaves and to my right I saw a mouse. She ran away as soon as she noticed me. She seemed so nervous, and a bit further away she suddenly stopped and stood still on the ground of the slope. There I took some pictures of her. She seemed exhausted and a bit out of breath. Then she quickly let herself fall on the path beneath, started to run again, frantically, till she hid under a big heap of dead leaves. I was appeased that she had found a good hide-away. The end of the story.