Tags
collaboration, flowering weeds, human destruction, massacre, Mother Earth, mother nature, nature, photosynthesis, reproduction, secret valley, survival of the species, weeds, wild flowers
After the torrential rains in April, a riot of flowering weeds covered the lawn in multi-coloured glory. Daisies, poppies, dandelions, marigolds, clover and varieties of many unnamed wild flowers, flourishing under the warm spring sun, spread their beauty in undulating waves of bouncy grass across the garden. Bunches of slender mallow with purple blossoms gracing lush green fields, watched over their brothers and sisters.
It was a blissful time until the guillotine man arrived and began the massacre. A blizzard of yellow, pink, purple, white and red petals flew through the air and scattered, while their stems fell to the ground. On the edges of the waving grass, the survivors drooped to hide their stalks and disguise their blooms. Even tall Mallow didn’t have the chance to warn them in due time. At the end of the day, the executioner swept the dead bodies into bags and dumped them by the garbage containers.
In the silence of the night, the weeds wept for the departed, until there were no more tears, and waves of anger began to spread around the borders. Poppy shouted, “We must revolt! I protest this ruthless massacre.”
Dandelion agreed. “I second this. Mutiny in the garden. Death to the humans. We should invade their houses and poison them.”
Wise Daisy listened to the rebellion, and only spoke when gusts of anger subsided into quiet contemplation. “We can’t do anything to the humans. They have their machines and chemicals. We have a single purpose in life. The survival of our species. We’re already under threat. They’re building everywhere. Our seeds are safe in Mother Earth, but each time they build, they excavate the soil and dump it somewhere. Once construction is over, they bring new soil from questionable sources and pile it on top us. We must find a solution for this. We need a secret garden, but I don’t know how we can find one or get there.”
They discussed many possibilities including the collaboration of insects and bees, who if asked politely, might transfer their seeds and spores to a new place. Clover said, “They tend to stay around the same areas and move slowly. We need something stronger and faster.”
At the break of dawn, a crow landed on the freshly cut grass, looking for food.
Marigold said, “Perhaps we should ask the worms to entice him so that he’ll help carry our future offspring to a faraway place.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth would the worms sacrifice themselves on our behalf? We need a better plan. Maybe we should discuss it with him.”
Daisy raised her voice and addressed the crow. “Sir, we need your opinion. As you can see, we’re devastated. Only a few of us remain, but soon the landowners will come with their sharp blades to complete our annihilation. We have very little time. How can we get a fast exit to a new location a long way from here and protect our species? Can you help?”
“Hmm, ” Corvus the Crow muttered. “You need something stronger. Me and my mates can help you, but it’s not enough. I know of a place up in the mountains. It’s called the Secret Valley. Trekkers go there once in a while because it’s surrounded by high hills, hidden from the naked eye. However, as you may be aware, nothing is hidden anymore. Everything is on Google Earth via satellite.”
“What’s Google Earth, satellite?” Daisy asked, blushing.
“They’re the human operated observers, taking pictures of the planet, imitating the bird’s eye view. The valley is remote, uninhabited, and can only be reached by an ancient trail. So, it will be a safe haven for a while.”
“I see. How can we go there? Can you show the way?”
“You need to believe first, make a wish and pray. You must find a mantra, concentrate, then conjure a strong eastern wind in your minds.”
“A mantra?”
“A secret, sacred word you must not repeat to others. It doesn’t have to be in Sanskrit, any word will do as long as you add Omm… to the end.”
“Hmm, ” the weeds whispered in unison, “how can we find a word, one that’s the same for all us?”
“Concentrate,” Corvus repeated.
“Ssss….”
“Hush,” the Crow crowed. “It’s never to be repeated out loud or to each other. Find the word and meditate. Your lives depend on it.”
The weeds closed their eyes and prayed silently, repeating their mantra. ‘Mighty Eastern Wind, save us from desolation. Carry us to the Secret Valley to protect our species. Let us flourish in the sacred meadows, far from the destruction of mankind. Ommmm.’
Time stopped. When the sun peeked over the hills, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. The breeze became a wind, then a gale. It gathered everything loose on earth’s surface into blustering currents and carried it all towards the mountains. A murder of crows rode the wind and glided high across the sky towards the Secret Valley.
The crows circled the valley, as the gale slowed down to a soft breeze and sprinkled the seeds onto the virgin earth. Rain clouds covered the sky and fell in a gentle shower, mixing the spores into the fresh soil.
Two weeks later, the stem of a daisy popped through the earth. Followed by a poppy, a dandelion, marigolds, clovers, even mallows who worked hard to absorb the Mother’s goodness and produce photosynthesis to feed their multi-coloured flowers.
Young Daisy opened her eyes and saw a baby Poppy. “Thank God, you’re here.”
“We’ve sss…”
“Hush, ” Daisy said. “Mummy said, never repeat the word.”
“Sorry. Look little Marigold is here too, and Dandelion.”
The flowering weeds flourished in the Secret Valley, nurtured by Mother Earth, and with the help of Corvus and his mates who visited them during the seed dispersal time. They gathered strength for the next generations to fight against another possible destruction by humans in the future.
