Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: HEALTH (10/13/16)
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TITLE: The Flower and the Tuber | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lindy Davis
10/20/16 -
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My descent down the pithy, moist tunnel had drawn me in waves of irresistible suction. I wasn't a bit scared, but I must say it did feel weird, going deeper and deeper into a tube that was rather like a waterpark tunnel slide lined with damp, undulating foam.
Smiling, I reflected on the irony of being inhaled by a plant, when we humans were accustomed to inhaling the perfume they offered! In fact I'd had an inkling that Dahlias don't really have perfume, but the glory of those nodding blooms seemed to beckon curiosity. I couldn't help plunging my nose deeply into a benevolent bloom and drinking in the possibility of a perfume equal to its visual splendour. However, just as I registered a little disappointment at the nondescript scent, the massive sea anemone like flower enveloped me. In an instant I was cushioned in a crinoline of red petals; poised and paused before being drawn gently but powerfully through a mass of soft, damp disks that I assumed were seeds in the flower hip
Next, I felt like I was being birthed into the stem where a rhythmic drawing and resting corresponded with the apparent breath of my herbaceous captor. It was on one such pause, being held securely , motionless, that it occurred to me that one would normally be thinking of all of the “why , when, where and how” questions. Possibly even a few “what ifs”.
As though to spare me the trouble of wondering, presently, I came to rest in a cold, dark space. Previously, I’d had a sense of green translucent light almost as though through glass bottles. Now it was completely dark, but for a figure made out only by a sort of florescent blue aura.
“The Gardener” introduced himself to me and offered a Tour of the Tubers” with the pride of a nationalistic tourist guide. Before my lips could offer a response, I was again ‘minimised’ to the size, I suppose, of microscopic proportions. My enigmatic guide remained unchanged in his appearance to me and led me confidently through a maze of pulsing tunnels, storehouses, energy plants, chemicals and a massive water storage area. Intrigued, excited and filled with wonder, I followed. A captivated captive.
“Let me answer” the Gardener wheeled suddenly as we finished our course, as if I'd asked. With the drama and passion of a political orator he continued. “Consider that wizened bulbous mass that winters over under your camellia bush. Dry, brown, and apparently lifeless, yet in these tubers lay life, just needing the right conditions to spring up out of their dark grave and ultimately produce a fireworks of spectacular flowers atop a leafy tower of green. It's here in the dark, unseen places that tubers faithfully function, bringing prosperity, power, health and increase to life. Without them, all the tending to the outer plant is to no avail.” Apparently satisfied that he'd completed his mission and delivered his speech, he dismissed me, and I found myself sitting again in a decadent profusion of velvety petals.
Questions failed me.
A bee whizzed by and paused as if to inspect the towering stamens rising up like UFOs perched on pillars out of the depths of red. He seemed rather clumsy in my delicate surrounds and I was feeling faintly annoyed at his intrusion, as I brushed off the ensuing shower of yellow pollen. I wondered at last, how and why all this had occurred. Quite unexpectedly my visitor turned and spoke to me. “You were inspired by the flower but discovered the source.” He smiled, winked and flew away.
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