The Fable of the Moth and the Poppy

The sweet scent of wild flowers mixed with the fresh and clean scent of the evening rain. Today was the first day of spring, and all the flowers will be blooming any minute now.

The dawn rose over the mountains, making a golden crested scene. A breeze started to pick up, causing the stems of the flowers to sway lightly, back and forth.

A small flutter of wings masked one small blooming bud. Small hands came out of the moth shaped figure to tend to the newly grown poppy bud. The warmth and bright rays of the sun began to sparkle over the cascading hills and hills of flowers blooming.

The moth fairy beamed at the flower. This time of year was her favorite. When the sun seemed to come up earlier, excited that spring had finally decided to come chase away the remaining winter storms and blizzards.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, finally peaking over the mountains, more and more small pixies came out of the trees, washing their faces in the morning dew and stretching their wings in preparation for the florists to arrive.

After centuries of the gatherings each spring, it had become a competition to see which sprite could create the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, if the florists chose their bouquet of beautiful wild flowers, then they would be crowned the winner of the event.

This year, the moth fairy had an idea. She was going to focus on the care of one poppy.

Although the other small winged creatures laughed, snickered and ultimately downed the idea that one flower could be beautiful enough to catch the eye of a big time florist.

"Do you really think one silly flower could really impress a florist such as she?" The other fairies would chant trying to get the little moth winged girl to quit her dreams.

They would also, so often compare their glorious bunches of wild flowers to that of the poor moth, secretly sneaking in rude and cheeky comments at each other, making the contest seem more like an emotional battle to a dreadfully hurtful and embarrassing death.

As the day went on, each fairy studied the growth of their flower patches in the field, making sure that the preparations were just right for the final products they would leave for the florists to collect to sell in the markets of the town square.

But when the time finally came for the florists to come pick the prettiest flowers, each fairy deemed their own work's of art not good enough and began to pluck the petals, one by one to hide the shame they felt for spending so much time on the extravagant displays.

With a honk of a car horn in the distance, each fairy hid either in a neighboring small pond, or the tree's surrounding the large meadow. They watched carefully as the woman with her camera and a large pair of metal shears stepped out of the grey car.

She looked around, admiring the beautiful scenery, until she got a closer look at many of the displays, thousands of small magnificently colored petals littered the ground as if they had been ripped from the poor heads of each wild plant.

She mourned at the loss of such angelic blossoms. Then something caught her eye. A bright red poppy, decorated with droplets of dew shimmering in the dim evening light.

The florist quickly lined her camera up at the sight and snapped a few pictures.

"This is by far one of the most beautiful poppies I've ever seen." The florist mumbled to herself. "This is my beautiful bouquet this year."

And with a swift snip of her shears, she cut the bottom of the stem and took it with her back to her car.

The fairies watched in awe as the flower was placed in a glass vase and put in a cardboard box filled with packing peanuts in the passenger's seat, as to preserve this magnificent piece of artwork.

As soon as the car drove away, and the headlights faded in the distance, the fairies came out to try and comprehend what they had just witnessed and what had just happened.

Had the esteemed florist chosen a simple Poppy?

The fairies began to mumble and mutter amongst themselves.

"This is outrageous!!" One said to the other. "How could a single flower take the breath away from one such as she?"

"I am quite puzzled at how this could have happened!!" Others yelled.

"Why her? what did that florist see in that poppy that she didn't see in any of our flowers?"

"why didn't my lilacs get chosen? They were much more pretty than a simple poppy!!"

The small Moth felt proud that the florist had chosen her poppy to showcase back at her shop in the town, and ultimately sell to some lucky man as a gift to his girl, but at the same time, she felt ashamed that nobody liked her work.

The moth fluttered up to a high branch in the tree and began to cry. She had spent all day on that poppy and her work was being disgraced by the rest of her kind.

Then the thought hit her. Maybe, just maybe, she could see her poppy one last time before it started to wilt, or before it was given away to some couple perusing through the market.

She flapped her small wings and followed the fading headlights of the Florist's car.

Struggling to keep up with the car, she saw an owl sitting in a tree next to the road.

"excuse me?" she asked fluttering up to it.

The owl opened it big yellow eyes and turned it's head to face the moth.

"could you help me find my poppy?" She asked in a very polite voice. "it is a beautiful velvet red with dew drops glistening on the petals. It was taken by a florist and I'd like to see it one more time before it wilts."

The owl blinked, "But of course I can." they said in a reassuring tone. "sit on my back and I'll follow your instructions, for I would also like to see your poppy."

The moth grabbed a hold of the owl's feathers and they were off, continuing to follow the grey car as it set off on it's journey.

But after a little while longer down the road, the owl began to get tired. They landed on a low branch and watched the car drive away.

"I am sorry, I'm unable to go much further, I would have really loved to see your crimson poppy with glistening dew."

Along came a large wolf. There were large white patches on it's back standing out through the darkness, making the creature below visible to the two winged creatures in the tree.

"I can help you follow the car, for I would also like to see this poppy you speak of, it sounds rather dashing. Just sit on my back and give me directions."

And the trio set of, continuing to follow the car down the road.

When they finally reached the town, the bright lights blinded the wild animals. They had never seen such a sight before.

They walked through the town, continuing to follow the car, yet keeping in mind the distance between the two.

As soon as the car stopped, they hid behind a large sign in front of a glass building.

The florist hopped out with the cardboard box in her hands, the poppy shining in the dim orange light cast upon it by the street lamps.

The trio quickly and ever so quietly followed the florist in through the open door, remaining out of sight.

The florist set the poppy in the glass vase on a table closest to the window by the street, she sighed at it's beauty and went back to work unloading things from her car.

The moth riding the owl riding the wolf came closer to the table looking up at the poppy.

"that's it! that's my poppy! Isn't it lovely?" The moth asked fluttering up to the table to land next to her creation. What the moth realized that day, was that she didn't need the opinions of others to have her work validated. The only thing that mattered, was that she loved her own work.

"it certainly is." the owl agreed. Then, the owl being an owl, ate the moth, and the wolf being a wolf, jumped up and ate the owl. Then animal control was called, and the wolf was taken back into it's natural habitat, because the city is no place for a wild animal.

The end

(yeah, sorry, I don't often do happy endings)