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54 pages, Hardcover
First published May 3, 2006

Walking was easy because his rucksack was almost empty and he didn't have to worry about anything. Snufkin was pleased with the forest, the weather and himself. Tomorrow and yesterday were equally distant from him now, for just at that moment the bright red sun was shining down from the birch trees, and the air was cool and mild.

"I live all over the place," answered Snufkin, and put the coffee pot on the fire. "Today I happen to be here; tomorrow I will be somewhere else. I wander about as I please. When I find a place I like, I pith my tent and play my harmonica."

Snufkin walked about quietly, the trees of the forest surrounding him. It began to rain. The raindrops fell on his green hat and rain jacket. The pitter-patter and rustling of the rain was everywhere and the comforting, exquisite solitude of the forest engulfed him.

"Tonight is the night for a song," thought Snufkin. "I'll think up a new song that is one part anticipation, two parts pining for spring, and the rest a joyous declaration of how wonderful it is to be alone and at peace with yourself."