I was astonished when flowers started talking to me. First it was just my plants at home. They told me when they were thirsty, they thanked me for the water I gave them. They reminded me to give them a little plant food every now and then. That Venus Fly Trap was downright cranky and complained that there were not enough flies in my house.
I think the plants had been talking to me for a while before I actually heard them. I would hear little tinkles of music when I was watering them. I thought my ears were ringing in a pretty way. Then the sounds definitely got louder, sounding more like music, until finally, I could distinguish actual words. “Thank you, I was so thirsty”, the African Violet told me. I thought her dirt seemed very dry, even for an African Violet.
Next I heard a small musical voice asking for a drink. I was sitting across the room from the Busy Lizzie, and looked up in astonishment from the book I was reading. Lizzie had to repeat her request, as my astonishment prevented me from getting up on her first request.
Then they began chatting to me about all kinds of things. How they liked where they were situated – or not. They shared memories of being little seedlings, and of their first recognitions of the warmth and light of the sun. The Wandering Jew was quite belittling of the small Ivy when she shared that she thought the electric light was the sun.
Sometimes they would argue - perhaps about who was tallest or prettiest. I notice this came mainly from the younger plants. The old plants who had been rambling around my living room for years, were quieter, snorted in derision every now and then, or shook their leaves. Some even sighed.
A month or two later, I noticed that I was hearing small voices outside as well - some tinkling sounds from daisies on a lawn, deeper voices from tree blossoms, and even leaves when the blossoms were gone. It quite transformed going for a walk. Instead of hearing my own thoughts bouncing around inside my head, I always had company as long as I walked near some growing green plant. There were whispers in the rustling elephant grass. There was singing from magnolia trees, deep and beautiful. The oaks hummed in contentment as they swayed in the wind.
It was from the trees that I learned about their Creator. Their many years growing slowly and steadily had given them time to formulate their ideas, increase their knowledge. Their words were often sparse, but dripped with wisdom. “He cares for us.” “All in good time.” “You can trust that he is watching out for you.”
And so I began to talk to them about what was on my mind. They never failed to gently drop their soothing words of wisdom on me. Sometimes I would sit on a rock under a tree whose leaves spread far above me. Or the willow that leaned over a small creek, her hair hanging down in curtains, forming a peaceful chamber underneath.
Then one day I noticed that the creek wasn’t trickling by, it was pattering words as it went. It was more rushed than the trees, but more thoughtful than the potted plants at home. The water of the creek had seen much in its travels from here to there, over many miles. The creek gave lighter, humourous wisdom. “It’s the same all over, don’t worry.” “A little rain never hurt anyone, especially me!” “Want to see something new? Come with me! There will be something new around the next corner.” Sometimes, after a heavy rain, the water of the creek rushed by, leaving short sentences hanging in the air, that I had to grasp quickly before they were gone.
And so it was that I learned the wisdom of the world God created. I learned to relax, be at peace and listen. Listening to the flowers, trees and rushing water was far more peaceful than listening to people complain, expound, or hurl their beliefs at others – including me. Humans are good for thought out theories – when they have them, but nature..... Nature is good for deep, simple truths that God planted, sometimes long ago, with every seed and each drop of water.
Oh I really enjoyed this. It would be perfect for the challenge! If you can afford the few dollars a month for the membership, I hope you join and enter the weekly challenges. You'd get much more feedback.
The opening was perfect. It grabbed my attention immediately and made me want to keep reading. If this was written for the astonishment topic, it would have done well in the category, writing on topic. It was a fresh, clever and fun idea.
The only advice I have for you is to show rather than tell. That is a hard thing to get down. An example would be instead of telling the reader you were astonished show it with something like this.--I sat sipping coffee when suddenly, I tilted my head. I heard whispering coming from the direction of my windowsill. Dropping my cup, my mouth dropped open as I jumped up and searched the room for the mysterious voice.
It helps the reader set up the scene and it feels more like watching TV than hearing about the story over the phone.
I absolutely loved the message. How often we rush about our busy lives, missing out on the little things in life. You did a wonderful job with this. Keep writing!