Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Wildflower Wednesday

On a bright summer day a young girl went for a walk to look for some wildflowers for her Mum's kitchen.  Mum hadn't been feeling well lately and the young girl thought some flowers would cheer her up.  She passed by Farmer O'Neal's pasture and saw these lovely purple flowers and thought they would do nicely for Mum.  
There were also lovely little mums all over and she plucked those too.  However, the walk had been rather long so she sat under the great tree to rest and make a few flower chains with the flowers.  Flower chains were sure to cheer Mum up.
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Yet as the day grew warmer the young girl grew tired and her eyes began to droop.  The world took on an antique hue and the sky appeared to be filled with flower shaped clouds and the flowers that surrounded her were suddenly taller than she.
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Standing up, the flower chain and bouquet forgotten, the young girl raced to return home for nothing looked the same.  What had been Farmer O'Neal's pasture was now a meadow and where sheep grazed now aged wooden folding chairs stood.  People in their Sunday Frippery filled those chairs as gentle music played from the string quartet that sat where the barn used to be.

The young girl was frightened at the change and yet drawn to The People just the same.  As she drew in closer to them she told herself she would only ask for directions to her home, she needed to return home to Mum.  Suddenly one of The People grabbed her, speaking softly that the ceremony was to begin and she must take her place.

No sooner had she seated herself than a beautiful woman who looked much like her Mum, only much younger, dressed in a gown of white began to walk down the aisle.  It was then that the young girl realized she was at a wedding.  She strained in her seat to see the groom but could not quite make out his face, for he was standing at a great distance from her.

As suddenly as The People had arrived they vanished , the quiet music still ringing in her ears and all that remained of her vision was a bouquet of wildflowers on a dark antique chair.
The young girl pressed on, Mum would soon realize her absence and would worry.  The sun had now shifted in the sky and late afternoon was upon her.  Yet strangely, as if in a dream, the world around her became bigger or she became smaller she was not sure which.  First it was the trees that no longer looked like trees but grew to the height of mountains.  Grass that had crunched under her feet now was her height, flowers loomed overhead like trees.  

What was this place?  The young girl saw nary a bug but noticed the intricacies of each blade of grass, of the stems of the flowers and the water droplets.  In awe of the great details she saw the young girl stopped, remembering her little sketch pad she kept in her pocket.  She sat and drew in great detail the veins of each blade of grass, the way nutrients of the flowers glittered up the stem to the flower and how the petals of the flower vibrated with each drink the roots took in.

Exhausted from such a task the young girl laid down to rest among the flowers.
When she awoke she noticed the flowers were of appropriate size but that the sun was now dipping lower in the sky quickly rising to her feet the young girl began walking again hoping to find some sign of where she was, how to get home.  Mum was sure to be worried something fierce about her absence, she had been gone all day.  As the young girl wandered, she noticed that the field began to cede and and a forest began.  Tall evergreen trees stretched tall to the sky, like soldiers on watch over the life of the forest floor.  

Pressing on into the forest the sun's evening rays glimmering in between the trees.  A clearing diverged and the young girl took it and the sight she saw took her breath away.  A cloud capped mountain and the suns lowering rays shining on the valley below showing the trail of a small river.  She sat down upon a fallen tree and simply soaked in the sight.
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Eyes closed she listened to the soft sounds of the end of day.  Birds bustling to settle their chicks, crickets beginning their evening chant.  The soothing sounds turned into vibrations.  Not vibrations, no she was being shaken.  Slowly her eyes opened and before her stood Farmer O'Neal a smile on his weathered faced.  

Standing up the young girl realized she had fallen asleep under the great tree just past Farmer O'Neal's pasture.  The bouquet of wildflowers still in her hands she quickly waved her goodbye to the farmer and ran home.  She not only had beautiful flowers for Mum but a story to share as well.

I hope you enjoyed this short story.  I know it has been a while since I've posted anything here, it is a season for sure.  Life as a mother can be hard and sometimes there are moments when we just don't understand why we're feeling as we do.  That is where I am today, where I'll probably be for a few more days.  At times like these I find it extremely therapeutic to write, many things I write I don't share but today I set out to post a few lovely photos but when it came to writing a snippet about each picture a story came out instead.  Please pay no mind to improper grammar or change in voice, it is but a first draft but as with most things related to therapy it needs no perfecting for it is what it is.  My prayer is that it brightens your day as it has already brightened mine.


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