This is a story about a garden.
It was full of all types of colourful flowers. Great big tall ones that swayed in the breeze. Little star shaped ones all in different shades of blue. There were roses that climbed over the fences, red and white and all the colours in between, and daffodils that burst into beautiful yellows at the first touch of spring. Lavenders and honeysuckle grew there, and big fat bumbly bumble bees played in them all summer long, blundering in and out of the sweet smelling flowers.
At the bottom of this garden was a little pond where three fat goldfish swam in the cool water beneath the lily pads. Sometimes the tabby cat would sit on the side and doze in the sun. She was far too polite to try and catch the fish for dinner, and anyway, she didn't like getting her paws wet. She'd settle herself all comfy-like on the edge of the pond where she had a wonderful view of the castle nearby.
If you happened to be walking in this garden you would see the flowers, the bumbly bees, the little lily pond with the fat fish, and the oh-so sleepy tabby cat called Flo. You would also see the little castle tucked into the sunny corner by the pond. If you stopped and took time to really look, you would see the little arched windows and the tiny little door, all covered in silky spiderwebs.
If you looked really, really carefully. I mean really, really, really hard. Maybe even squinting your eyes, nd stayed really, really still and quiet, you might just see a tiny little face at one of the windows. A tiny little face that maybe didn't quite look real.
If you listened as hard as you could, you might even hear the buzz of little wings. Not the big fat buzzy bee wings over in the honeysuckle, but a buzz that could almost be called music. More like a tinkle-buzz than a bumble-buzz. If you stayed even quieter and settled yourself down in that shady patch, over there beneath the tree, and kept watching, and if you really, truly believe in fairies, this is where you just might see one.
Her name is Pollen because her wings are yellow. She has a tiny yellow dress spun from spider's silk, just like the silk that drapes the castle. Her wings and her dress are exactly the same yellow as the pollen inside the garden flowers.
When it is quiet, and she thinks that you have gone, she'll come out and be busy doing her fairy work. She flits around and does the important work that keeps the garden full of colour. Pollen's job is to paint the colours onto the baby flowers.
Flo watches sometimes, so she knows how the flowers get their different colours. Just as they are opening Pollen flits out of her castle with her little pots of flower paint and quickly brushes the colour onto the new baby petals.
One day Pollen had to paint the new petunias. Pink and purple were the petunia colours and Pollen had been busy with the pink and purple delphiniums all week. Delphiniums are big, tall flowers. The sort that like to sway in the breeze.
Well, poor Pollen had been so busy with the delphiniums, flitting from flower to flower giving their baby petals their new colours, she had used up most of her pink and purple paint. Now the petunias were opening and she wouldn't have enough paint to colour them all. What was she going to do?
She couldn't do just half of them because that would be breaking a very important fairy-folk rule.
It was full of all types of colourful flowers. Great big tall ones that swayed in the breeze. Little star shaped ones all in different shades of blue. There were roses that climbed over the fences, red and white and all the colours in between, and daffodils that burst into beautiful yellows at the first touch of spring. Lavenders and honeysuckle grew there, and big fat bumbly bumble bees played in them all summer long, blundering in and out of the sweet smelling flowers.
At the bottom of this garden was a little pond where three fat goldfish swam in the cool water beneath the lily pads. Sometimes the tabby cat would sit on the side and doze in the sun. She was far too polite to try and catch the fish for dinner, and anyway, she didn't like getting her paws wet. She'd settle herself all comfy-like on the edge of the pond where she had a wonderful view of the castle nearby.
If you happened to be walking in this garden you would see the flowers, the bumbly bees, the little lily pond with the fat fish, and the oh-so sleepy tabby cat called Flo. You would also see the little castle tucked into the sunny corner by the pond. If you stopped and took time to really look, you would see the little arched windows and the tiny little door, all covered in silky spiderwebs.
If you looked really, really carefully. I mean really, really, really hard. Maybe even squinting your eyes, nd stayed really, really still and quiet, you might just see a tiny little face at one of the windows. A tiny little face that maybe didn't quite look real.
If you listened as hard as you could, you might even hear the buzz of little wings. Not the big fat buzzy bee wings over in the honeysuckle, but a buzz that could almost be called music. More like a tinkle-buzz than a bumble-buzz. If you stayed even quieter and settled yourself down in that shady patch, over there beneath the tree, and kept watching, and if you really, truly believe in fairies, this is where you just might see one.
Her name is Pollen because her wings are yellow. She has a tiny yellow dress spun from spider's silk, just like the silk that drapes the castle. Her wings and her dress are exactly the same yellow as the pollen inside the garden flowers.
When it is quiet, and she thinks that you have gone, she'll come out and be busy doing her fairy work. She flits around and does the important work that keeps the garden full of colour. Pollen's job is to paint the colours onto the baby flowers.
Flo watches sometimes, so she knows how the flowers get their different colours. Just as they are opening Pollen flits out of her castle with her little pots of flower paint and quickly brushes the colour onto the new baby petals.
One day Pollen had to paint the new petunias. Pink and purple were the petunia colours and Pollen had been busy with the pink and purple delphiniums all week. Delphiniums are big, tall flowers. The sort that like to sway in the breeze.
Well, poor Pollen had been so busy with the delphiniums, flitting from flower to flower giving their baby petals their new colours, she had used up most of her pink and purple paint. Now the petunias were opening and she wouldn't have enough paint to colour them all. What was she going to do?
She couldn't do just half of them because that would be breaking a very important fairy-folk rule.
"Always do your job well and always, always complete what you start"
No ..... Painting only half of the flowers would never do. It would be a job half done and Pollen always did her very best. Anyway, if she didn't paint the baby petals they wouldn't be able to open and then they would die before they even saw the sun.
Poor, poor Pollen. She checked all her paint pots. There was lots of yellow for the marigolds, and lots more red for the late roses, but no matter how hard she searched, she could find no more pink or purple. She would have to watch the petunia flowers die because she couldn't do her job. She sat and looked out of one of the little arched windows. Tiny fairy tears splashed onto the sill as she looked at the little white petunia buds that were getting ready to open at any moment.
The tabby cat Flo, gave a great big yawn and stretched in the sun. Pollen watched as Flo settled herself down again and licked lazily at one of her tabby striped legs.
That was it! Pollen jumped up and buzzed her wings excitedly. There was enough pink and purple after all, and every single baby petal would be able to open.
The next day Flo came ambling down the path, past the castle draped in spiderwebs and settled herself down in the sun at the edge of the pond where she watched the fish for awhile. Then she gazed around the garden. Her eyes opened wide. Big and round and very surprised. The petunias were open. All of them. Every single petal was painted and reaching up to the sun. They looked like pink and purple tabby cats because Pollen had painted them all with tabby stripes!
Ever since then, Pollen always paints stripes on the petunias in her garden. And sometimes on the geraniums as well.
Lovely story! I loved it.;-)
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