Stop 0 on the route

Moss Land

Home. Everyone in it is quietly getting sleepy. It goes to sleep when its stepping stones stop rocking.

The story of Moss Land

Moss Land is the way in — the bright, rolling, daytime front door of the whole world, green mounds and coral-capped mushrooms and the winding path of pale stepping stones that a child would know anywhere. It is where school happens and letters live and everything is wide awake. But it has one more job, and it is the most important one. Somewhere in Moss Land the trees stop and the ground opens into a wide, shallow bowl of soft, cushiony turf, golden in the late light, called the Yawn. It is the last place in the bright world. Somebody yawns there, every evening — and a beat later, somebody else does, because that is how yawns work — and nobody can ever say why the whole of Moss Land starts feeling sleepy. That is why the journey begins at all.