The Dragon Rock 1

This story begins with Once Upon A Time, because the best stories do, of course.

So, Once Upon A Time, and imagine if you can, a steep sided valley cluttered¹ with giant, spiky²（尖刻的） green pine trees and thick, green grass that reaches to the top of your socks so that when you run, you have to bring your knees up high, like running through water. Wildflowers spread their sweet heady（兴奋的，任性的） perfume along the gentle breezes and bees hum musically to themselves as they cheerily collect flower pollen³.

People are very happy here and they work hard, keeping their houses spick and span and their children's faces clean.

This particular summer had been very hot and dry, making the lean farm dogs sleepy and still. Farmers whistled lazily to themselves and would stand and stare into the distance, trying to remember what it was that they were supposed to be doing. By two o'clock in the afternoon, the town would be in a haze⁴ of slumber⁵, with grandmas nodding off over their knitting and farmers snoozing in the haystacks（干草垛） . It was very, very hot.

No matter how hot the day, however, the children would always play in the gentle, rolling meadows. With wide brimmed hats and skin slippery with sun block, they chittered and chattered⁶ like sparrows, as they frolicked in their favourite spot.

Now, their favourite spot is very important to this story because in this particular spot is a large, long, scaly⁷ rock that looks amazingly similar to a sleeping dragon.

The children knew it was a dragon. The grown ups knew it was a dragon. The dogs and cats and birds knew it was a dragon. But nobody was scared because it never, ever moved.

The boys and girls would clamber all over it, poking⁸ sticks at it and hanging wet gumboots（防水胶靴） on its ears but it didn't mind in the least. The men folk would sometimes chop firewood on its zigzagged⁹ tail because it was just the right height and the Ladies Weaving Group often spun¹⁰ sheep fleece on its spikes¹¹.

Often on a cool night, when the stars were twinkling brightly in a velvet¹² sky and the children peacefully asleep, the grown ups would settle for the evening with a mug of steaming cocoa in a soft cushioned armchair. Then the stories about How The Dragon Got There began. Nobody knew for sure, there were many different versions depending on which family told the tale, but one thing that everybody agreed on, was this: