The radiant gaze of the moon bathed the terra with an abundance of milky moonlight. The silence was a force all its own, engulfing sound as well as souls. The spell was broken not by giants, but by nature's smallest of minions. The purposeful squirrel chanced the brave arc into the starred sky. The soft patter of squirrel paws created a thunder which shook the placid valley. Did the wise, blue face of the moon not notice?