Sometimes an idea-scribble just needs to be scribbled; and sometimes there is even something tangible to show where the inpiration came from. I received the lovely photograph below on my RSS feed of Ressurection Fern.
To Margaret – who reminds us to look at the little things and share them every day – and to the snails saved in front of the school hall after the rains[1].
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| The spark for a story of epic proportions |
Dreaming of Wings
She was sitting on the flower, eating one of the bright orange petals. She did really have a name. She had heard herself being described as ‘slimy’ once and liked the sound of it, even if it had been meant as an insult. It was said, after all, not long before the owner of the voice returned, sprinkling a fine white powder as it moved past the bush where she was hiding. That had been a couple of days ago, and she had ventured to the plant with the bright flowers that tasted so sweet.
But there were others on the plant as well. The small ants whose chirping voices was the exact opposite of the ones that had given Slimy her name. A cricket crawled between the roots. And – most magnificent – a butterfly with wings like jeweled flowers alighted on the bloom to drink.
How Slimy envied her! What sights she must see! And how fast she moved, flitting about from bloom to bloom. Slimy would give anything to be able to grow wings like that and flit about the bedding and the great, green world beyond.
She made her way down to the ground for a nap and crawled onto some leaves. As she fell asleep, she realised that the leaved looked very much like elegant light brown wings. And Slimy dreamt of flying and flitting among the beautiful butterflies.
Postscript: The human throwing salt down in the garden should not be confused with Margaret (or me, please). I am positive there’s better ways of getting rid of snails in a garden. And, luckily, Slimy is a very smart snail and knows to stay away. And I think “slimy” has a nice ring to it, semantics aside.
Virgin For Hire: Part 7, “In which an obstacle wearing monocle is encountered” will be ready for posting tomorrow – along with a surprise. I might as well go all out, seeing that this story (which was meant as a diversion during study breaks) has gotten a little out of hand in my head – and is proving to be a lot of fun to write.
[1] Yes, I did get some strange looks when I carried the snails back to the garden (maybe even from the snails, who knows), but I couldn’t very well let them be squashed.
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