On a sun blessed morning in early spring, she is leaning on her shovel, surveying her sleeping garden and picturing the promised wonder of days to come. Spiking red and yellow hollyhock, exotically reminiscent of hibiscus. Wisteria, twisting and sagging under the weight of fragrant heliotrope blooms. Hyacinth flowers, perfectly arranged like pyramids of miniature grapes, and the blushing faces of pink coneflower-such a delightful contrast to the amusingly ferocious faces of the orange snapdragon.
Plunging the tip of the spade sharply into the soil, near the base of an awakening peony whose tender new leaves are just beginning to peek out between last season’s dead stalks-she carves the plant, roots and all, from the earth. Her sobs are mixed with apology. “I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “But lettuce, tomatoes, peas-they are what matter now.”
She pulls a flower festooned handkerchief from the back pocket of her overalls, blows her nose a little too loudly, and laughs lightly at her cacophonous honking and snorting. “Perhaps my nose ought to be classified as a secret weapon!” Someday though, she promises herself-someday, when this war is over, she will sow the seeds that she gathered last summer, an archive of what was, and must only be remembered for now. She notes the blossoms on her sodden hankie, and the significance does not escape her.
Forget-me-nots.
This piece of fiction was inspired by the prompt WONDER.
Photo credit.
So beautiful, Valerie. I am hoping for some warm sun blessed mornings myself :) I love how you described the flowers. I can see it all perfectly in my head. I always enjoy reading your stories set in the past. They have such a neat historical perspective that I think so many people don't even think about anymore.
ReplyDeleteTammy, thank you so much for that comment! I've always felt like I was born in the wrong era (my husband even calls me "chronologically challenged!") I love writing these stories-it helps keep the past alive for both me, and hopefully my readers too:) And hopefully I'm not a nut;)
DeleteAwww, I feel bad for her missing those flowers!
ReplyDeleteLisa, wouldn't it be awful having to tear them out! But I think that's what had to be done in some cases. :(
ReplyDeleteWoven like the artist you are....I loved how you created the atmosphere in this story, made me see her sacrifice and then gave me the twist at the end...the Forget-me-nots tie perfectly with the title: "We'll meet again!"
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this very much:~)
Thanks so much Sara! I appreciate your comments-my fellow "artist!"
DeleteOh Valerie this entire chapter reminds me of my sweet Mom; peonies (she had about 8 plants, deep pink) and planting peas. My Mom always planted peas. She said they were the easiest vegetable to grow. Thank you. and ...I absolutely love the comment you made and the suggestion of actually stealing the item next time! HAHAHAHAHA! So funny are we!!!!
ReplyDeleteRenae-I love peas and peonies! I don't have either at the moment...maybe I need to "five finger discount" some? Just kidding, of course! Thanks for your comment!!
DeleteThis was just sweet Valerie, you made it real and memorable in such a wee space. I heard all about Victory gardens when I was growing up so your story touched a chord on many levels.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Jacqueline! I've wondered how well I'd have done at victory gardening! Successful, I hope:)
DeleteOh, wow! To the last sentence, the last few words, every breath in this piece was significant. Beautiful, Valerie!
ReplyDeleteDawn-thank you! You've hit the nail on the head with what I strive to do in so few words-to make every word count! I am honored you made that observation:)
DeleteSuperb - really moving piece, and capturing a moment in time excellently.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Thomas!! I'm forever in awe of what that generation sacrificed, and accomplished.
DeleteYou know it's funny. My grandfather never planted anything but flowers in his garden when I was growing up. He was a 2nd generation Italian-American and LOVED fresh tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, etc. but never planted vegetables. He always insisted on having a purely decorative garden. I wonder, after reading this, if it was from giving up his beloved flower gardens as a kid to make way for a victory garden.
ReplyDeleteVictoria-that's a really interesting observation about your grandfather. I wonder too!
DeleteThanks so much for reading!!
I was born in the wrong generation, too. I feel so much more connected to that time, and you captured it so beautifully.
ReplyDeleteLori,I'm glad you can relate:) Thanks for your comment!
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully bittersweet. I walked that flower garden with each description. And mourned the loss as well. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteThis is so sweet, Valerie! I feel bad she had to dig up the peony. :(
ReplyDeleteOh, her sweet flowers! I'm sorry I missed this until now. I'm going to get back to my regular rounds soon!
ReplyDelete