bluebell

97 1 0
                                    

Life is colorful.

Rather than an autumn of rest, I prefer a springtime of youth. Not only does the springtime yield beautiful flowers, but the weather is perfectly clement as well. The autumn is pleasant - filled with oranges, reds and yellows, but sometimes those three colors are redundant on my afternoon walks. The springtime's color palette is far more vivid, rather pleasing to the eye. Spring isn't my favorite season just because of the colors. It's my favorite because of the beauty of the flowers, and who opened my eyes to see it.

It was chilly. Not a bad kind of chilly, but the kind of chilly that tousles your hair and nips at your cheeks. I was in my nightgown on my midnight walk, admiring the bluebells in the park's plant beds. The midnight walks were new, I often found myself restless during these hours, longing to see nature's beauty. Ever since I started going on my nightly walks, I always visited June's park. It was only a couple blocks away from where I lived, and it was always so empty. The fact that I was visiting at midnight did not help the emptiness, and the cold only made the park sparse.

I had only been going on these walks for a week, and I couldn't help but notice the lack of flowers. The only ones in the whole park were those three bluebells, and they had just mysteriously appeared in one of the plant beds. I crouched down to look at them. The blue flowers hung over in a bell shape. Their petals were delicate, and I was careful not to pinch or squeeze them. They were beautiful, and I felt sad that they were alone in the park, just the three blooms. Although I wasn't a gardener, I had the necessary skills to plant a seed or two, since my grandma had taught me for a short amount of time. I stood up and looked back at the lone bluebells, walking back down the road I came from. I made a mental note to visit the flower shop in the coming weekend.

"Thank you, miss." The cashier thanked me as I walked out the flower shop's door, the bells jingling as it fell closed behind me. I ran down the street and to the park. Since it was early evening, the park wasn't yet empty. There were several young children running around, along with their parents. It wasn't unlikely that the kids left their houses in my neighborhood, but many of the teenagers and adults didn't like the park, or the outdoors in general. I crouched down beside the bluebells, sad in their corner and pulled out the seed packets I had bought: zinnia, snowdrop, and pansy. I moved the soil with my finger and scattered a couple zinnia seeds in a row beside the bluebells. Although I was the only one who was actively trying to start a garden in the park, I was hopeful. I knew flowers take a while to grow, and I didn't want to rush it. I poured water out of my water bottle on the seeds and got up, hoping my flowers would grow. 

green // dragon quest 11's hero x reader// weird au? // brainrotWhere stories live. Discover now