Here’s a little children’s story to finish my petal themed day.
She lived beneath a bucket tucked behind the old tool shed. No one ever saw her as it was much too dark and overgrown with wild roses, brambles and a smothering layer of ivy. The latter had grown so haywire that to an outsider the whole ensemble looked like one big, green mess. To Petal it was home.
Petal was one of the little people that some called wood elves, others, flower faeries. Regardless of names, she enjoyed life to the fullest with several chaffinches and a beautiful, lone blue tit that nested near her bucket. It was the chaffinches who first noticed her gone.
All the small creatures of the garden set out to find Petal. Never had there been such a slithering, scurrying, fluttering madness around the garden, but such was she loved that all the creatures panicked.
That was in the Spring. By Summer, the baby chaffinches had fledged and left home, and most had forgotten Petal. When Fall’s russets and golds happened upon the garden, Petal was but a wished for friend. By Winter, she was no more than a memory.
Spring returned to the garden with the twittering call of a blue tit, the one they’d all forgotten when Petal went amiss. It wasn’t alone. There, sat astride the little bird’s back, clutching her daisy chain harness like her life depended upon it, smiled Petal. To the garden’s tiny creatures, she was beauty personified, a goddess in miniature, a perfect being. None of them knew her, though. They were all new. And that was how it had always been.
You see, Petal couldn’t bear to stay too long in the garden, she being a Faerie and living forever, the little ones only months. She didn’t have the heart to stay, so sad it made her. It was easier to let them forget her than she to forget them, as she did and would until the garden was swallowed by time and the only petal in the landscape would be her. Petal knew that day would one day come, but until then, she had new friends to make. And forget.