Children of Flora

My grandmother, the earth’s first forest, bore many children. Today, every living organism that buds leaf or spore, from the wise, whispering willows of hidden marshlands to the giggling, dancing fuchsia blossoms that adorn the doorsteps of man, is the spud of her womb.

Known as Matriarch Flor, my grandmother could best be described as a sovereign, spirit efflorescence, etched into bark and detailed with vine, who was capable of bestowing the land with singing and chattering plant life. For many centuries, she gazed into her viridescent wilderness, eavesdropping as her progeny spoke, laughed, and dreamt.

While Matriarch Flor loved all of her plant children dearly, her forest full of offspring was never enough to truly fulfill her. No matter how tall and grand her sycamores grew to be, no matter how vividly her lilies blossomed in the spring, my grandmother felt she could never be more significant than Czar Faeryl, the King and Creator of Fauna.

For many years, Matriarch Flor envied Czar Faeryl’s magnificent animal kingdom, watching in bewilderment as he filled her dense, emerald woodlands with wolves, reindeer, lynx, and other fascinating and ferocious creatures. Then, when the day came that homo sapiens began to alter the earth, she wept as Faeryl’s hounds and horses became man’s best companions while her own dear children were cut down for lumber.

Beside herself with misery, my grandmother wondered: why wasn’t her flora held with the same regard as the fauna? Not even the most majestic and charming of her creations, such as the sagacious, ancient yew or the romantic, intricate rose, could compare to the wondrous creatures that belonged to the animal realm.

That is, until one day - the day that my people, the Children of Flora, were born.

***

“Tell me again how grandmother created the fairies,” I said to my mother, the sweet-scented Diascia flower, whom I was named after.

“Diascia, my darling,” mamá said as she swaddled me with her velvety petals, “you’ve heard this tale many times. Are you sure you want me to tell it again?”

I fluttered my dainty, crystalline wings.

“Of course, mamá! It’s my favorite bedtime story.”

Mamá smiled at me with her tiny face, which was coated with pollen.

I snuggled into the satiny wall of her blossom and waited. Outside of her scarlet, floral cocoon, which was my cradle and home, the golden hour of sunshine began to fade and give way to the moon’s silvery light. There was a sweeping wave of “hush, hush” that flowed through the forest’s adumbral pathways, enkindling our keen, sixth senses. Cupping my ear to the wall, I could hear the tulip, iris, and daffodil mothers cooing their fairy children to sleep.

“One day,” began mamá, “when Matriarch Flor was overcome with despair, a young, human man, weary from his travels and the hot, mid-May sun, wandered into her forest and sat down to rest under her eldest oak tree.”

“How handsome was the man?” I asked eagerly, even though I already knew the answer.

“Very handsome indeed, my love, with thick, raven hair and sharp, defined features. He was so ravishing that your grandmother, Matriarch Flor, couldn’t help but become awestruck.”

“Did she fall instantly in love with him?” I asked.

“Not instantly, no. But we’ll get to that, sweet girl. Should I continue the story?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, mamá, I’ll listen now.”

“Matriarch Flor was not only drawn to this man for his beauty, but also because she felt inspired by him. You see, your grandmother had been looking for a way to create something extraordinary.”

“Like what, mamá?”

“Well, she wanted to make something tantamount to the animal children of Czar Faeryl.” Mamá paused. “Do you remember, Diascia, what I told you about the animal king?”

“Yes, mamá. You told me that he is a tenacious, frightening spirit that is never to be trusted."

Mamá let out a regretful sigh. As she did, the scent of her sweet nectar released into the air, stirring the dreams of the honeybees who were asleep in their hives.

“Yes, but that is not what I meant, dear girl. Do you recall the allyship that existed between Czar Faeryl and the humans?”

I thought for a moment.

“Do you mean how Czar Faeryl and the humans agreed that in the hierarchy of life on Earth, the animal kingdom would always sit second to man?”

“Yes,” breathed mamá, “that is exactly what I was referring to. This treaty meant that flora was always to be considered the least important in rank. That is, it was the sector of nature that would always be the most sacrificed.”

“I see why grandmother did not like Czar Faeryl,” I said, “he’d convinced mankind that the kingdom of flora was lowly and unimportant.”

“Yes, so you understand. While it’s true that Czar Faeryl had a kingdom full of creatures to be admired and protected, he was also an evil energy, consumed with the need for power.”

“He was so egotistic that he wore bison horns as a crown to symbolize his own greatness!” I added.

Mamá laughed.

“Yes.”

“Well, I think grandmother was very smart to watch this strange human as he sat in the forest. She was planning a way to become closer with mankind. Right, mamá?”

“Yes, Diascia. See? You know this story well.”

“Did grandmother yet realize that she would create the fairies with the help of the man?”

“Not yet, though she knew she needed his help in some way to create something special. First, however, she needed to gain his appreciation.”

“And so what did she say to the man?” I asked.

“Nothing at first. That is, she observed him. She watched as he wiped the sweat from his perfect, masculine brow, and she sat, deep in thought, as he drank from his tin canister.”

“Why did she watch him?”

“She wanted to learn all she could about him before taking action.” Mamá paused to caress my young face with one of her sweet-scented anthers, attempting to judge how close to falling asleep I was.

I looked at her with my bright, azure eyes, waiting for more. The best part of the story was yet to come.

“So what happened next, mamá?”

Mamá stretched her sepals into the silvery night air.

“Well, as the sun started to set, the earth became alive with shadows. Your grandmother watched as these shadows played tricks with her eyes, causing odd, dancing creatures to appear on the tree trunks and ivy-laced hills. Some of the creatures were dreadfully frightening, appearing to be monsters and ghouls, and some resembled those who already existed, like panthers and hares.”

“But there was a single, special shadow that gave her a genius idea!” I interjected.

Mamá pulled me in closely with one of her petals, which was the same hue as my scarlet-red hair. Then, she brushed the skin of my cheek, which was made of the same organic matter that she, herself, was comprised.

“Yes. There was one, particular shadow that caught her attention. As the man sat and listened to the sounds of the nightfall, light from the full moon cast his silhouette onto the trunk of the old oak tree, along with those of two fern leaves.”

“He appeared to have wings!” I burst out.

“Yes, my dear. He appeared to have wings.”

“Tell me what grandma said to her children, the trees and the flowers, when the man fell asleep,” I said.

“Matriarch Flor waited until the man fell asleep under the great, old oak. Then, when the last sparrow had sung and the stars were aglow in the sky, she began to rouse her darlings. The sweet, plum-colored violet was the first that she whispered to.

‘Bloom and awaken, dear Violet.’

“When the little violet began to stir and unfurl her petals, Matriarch Flor turned and hummed to the wispy, grand elm.

‘Sway and rustle, tall Elm.’

“It wasn’t long before a cluster of firs, bushes, and wild posies were wide awake.

“Juniper, the most daring of the bunch, asked Matriarch Flor the question many of her plant and seedling siblings were wondering.

‘Mother, why have you woken us?’

“Matriarch Flor took a deep breath of her crisp forest air.

‘Look under the great oak, my children. What do you see?’

“Cypress was the first to respond.

‘I see a man, mother! Why has he come?’

‘This I do not know, my child, but yes, there is a man. What else do you see?’

I sat up and cupped my face in the palms of my hands.

“I love this part!” I exclaimed.

Mamá smiled and continued.

“The plant and flower children studied the man in silence. Finally, it was the blue columbine who said something.

‘I see that the man appears to have merged with the flora world, mother, perhaps in a way he never has.’

“Matriarch Flor nodded.

‘Yes, sweet columbine. That is what I see as well.’

“As Matriarch Flor and the columbine spoke, the ferns, blossoms, and surrounding trees began to rustle with excitement. Then, little ivy had something to say.

‘Can we befriend this man? Perhaps he'll learn to see that we, the plants and trees, are just as special as the animal kingdom. Perhaps, when all is said and done, the humans will stop destroying us in order to clear room for their homes.’

“Matriarch Flor smiled. As she did, a sweet-scented breeze, full of petals and peace, swept through the forest.

‘You dream the same way as I do, my children. This brings me great happiness and hope. It is too late in the night to do anything now, but beginning tomorrow, we must show this man that we, the kingdom of flora, are an element of nature to be honored and protected.’

“And so, the morning came. As the warm sun hit the man’s face, he—"

“Wait!” I blurted out, stopping mamá, “I need to see something before we continue!”

With a beating heart, I climbed to the top of mamá and peered out over her cherry-red petals, contemplating the moonlit woodland before us. All around, the fireflies danced and flickered, creating the illusion that we were submerged in an ocean of stars. As I watched them flutter their wings, I remembered something.

“What are you doing, Diascia?”

“You’ve forgotten an important piece of the story, mamá.”

“Oh? I’m quite sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

“You missed the piece about how the columbine didn't notice the wings in the man’s silhouette. Why didn’t grandmother point this out?”

Mamá smiled and pulled me back into her sweet-scented chamber.

“Because the idea of creating a creature, one that was part man, part plant, and part animal, seemed wildly out of reach. It also meant crossing a dangerous territory with Czar Faeryl. His permission would need to be granted in order to borrow an element from the animal world.”

Mamá looked at me fondly.

“It’s getting very late, my love. You better let me finish this story before I fall asleep.”

“Ok,” I agreed, “the man began to wake up to the light of the sun. Then what?”

“As the man explored the forest, Matriarch Flor watched him, as did the trees, plants, and flowers. It wasn’t long before he began to hear their whispers.

“Startled, he raised his bow and dared to ask who was following him.

‘Hello? Who goes there?’

“Matriarch Flor couldn’t help but be captivated by his voice. Ultimately, she couldn’t resist speaking to him.

‘It is I, Matriarch Flor, the spirit of the forest. Tell me, what is your name? Why have you come here?’

‘My name is Draco, and I am here for inspiration.’

“Immediately, the plant and flower children began their chattering. The tiny violet had a wild idea.

‘He comes to fall in love, mother!’

"Then, the maple tree chimed in.

‘Perhaps he is an artist. Maybe, if we spark his creativity, he will paint a portrait of us to take back to mankind. Then, our beauty will be too much for the humans to resist! They’ll stop cutting us down!’

“Matriarch Flor stayed silent as her children conspired. Finally, she spoke.

‘You seek to create something beautiful.’

“The man lowered his bow.

‘Yes.’

“Matriarch Flor gave a laugh. It was a soft, rustling vibration that echoed through the trees.

“Draco closed his eyes. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

‘Show yourself.’

‘But you already see me. I am every essence of the forest, from the great sycamore trees that tower above, to the fragrant lilies that you cup in your hands.’

‘Show yourself. I want to see more of you.’

“And, though it went against your grandmother’s morals, she couldn’t resist. With a lustful sigh, she twisted the vines of her essence, manifesting into the form of a beautiful, ivy-born maiden that blossomed before him.

“Oh, Draco definitely fell in love with her!” I exclaimed.

Mamá laughed.

“Yes, he did.”

“So how did they create the fairies again?”

“Well, as Draco and Matriarch Flor fell deeply in love, little pieces of Draco - parts of his human DNA - fell into your grandmother’s many blossoms. A lock of his mane fell into this flower, a cell of his skin into that one, a drop of his saliva in another.”

I blushed.

“Oh, I see.”

“Yes. Now, for the part about the wings. You do know, Diascia, that insects are part of the animal kingdom, right?

“Yes, mamá.”

“Well, it might surprise you to learn that your favorite insect, the dragonfly, is carnivorous. And, when the tiny pieces of Draco’s DNA fell into the flowers, the blossoms began to attract many dragonflies.”

“Did the flowers eat the dragonflies?” I asked.

“We only assume that whatever happened inside of those flowers was a process of magic, my dear. When the blossoms unfurled the next morning, tiny, dragonfly-sized fairies, with iridescent wings gleaming in the sun, had been born. And that, my love, is how the Children of Flora were created.”

I smiled and fluttered my wings.

“What happened to Draco, mamá? Where does flora stand now in earth’s hierarchy?”

“Oh yes, Draco. Well, he turned out to be a very skilled poet, my love. This was the reason he’d entered the forest in the first place. He wrote some of the most beautiful poems, inspired by the trees and flowers, which he printed on greeting cards upon his return to his village.

“As for the hierarchal position of flora, I’m afraid that remains tricky. Fortunately, when Draco returned to his community, he was able to start a petition to protect certain segments of forest. Later on, these became the National Parks. At the end of the day, Matriarch Flor did create a remarkable life form that rivaled the children of Czar Faeryl.”

“And Czar Faeryl, mamá?”

“He lives on in you, Diascia, for you are just as much a part of the animal kingdom as you are human, magic, and flora.”