//------------------------------// // A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood // Story: Independence Eternal // by Leafdoggy //------------------------------// Sunlight streams through the large window beside Fluttershy’s bed, pooling together in golden lakes around the sleeping pony. She rolls over and yawns as she feels the gentle, comforting warmth wash over her. She rubs her sleepy eyes and sits up, watching the world outside. It’s a beautiful morning. Seas of perfectly green grass, unfettered breezes rippling out through the surface in waves. Islands of wildflowers shine out amongst the brush, splashes of color here and there as beacons of life vying to attract the wayward bee. The forest beyond the gardens, a wall of bark and leaves, the tops of the massive flora swaying back and forth in the wind. The familiar sight of the natural world brings a smile to her face, as it does every morning. Fluttershy stretches and pushes her blanket away before hopping off the bed, floating gingerly to the floor. Humming a gleeful tune, she starts her morning routine. She tidies her bed, leaving no wrinkle unaddressed. She brushes her teeth, fixes her mane, washes her face. You can’t have people worrying over you for looking disheveled, after all. When she finally leaves her bedroom, it’s like she had never slept at all.  She grabs a quick breakfast and gets comfortable at her small dining room table. Most of Fluttershy’s house isn’t suited for more than two ponies at the most, and her eating space is no exception. The small round table sits up against a bare kitchen wall, placed with purpose below a window with a view of the stream that runs past Fluttershy’s cottage. She does have two chairs, the table is at least large enough for two ponies to share a meal, but only one sits at the table, posted opposite the window so she doesn’t have to crane her neck to look outside while she eats. The other chair sits in the corner, generally used as a storing place for unsorted mail and other such junk which is too important to throw away, but not important enough to have its own space. Fluttershy soaks in the outside world as she mindlessly munches on her meal. It really is a gorgeous day outside. The sun shines down on the world, the few scattered clouds in the sky providing roaming havens of shade. The light glitters as it strikes the stream. Some days the water will be too choppy to make anything out, but today the surface is perfectly still, clear enough that the rays of sunlight break through and illuminate mosses and algae for the world to see. Every so often a gust of wind brings a cloud of pollen past the window, casting the world temporarily in a thick haze. Then the haze is gone, leaving only traces of itself dusting the ground, traces which the next gust promptly steals away. With a happy sigh, Fluttershy finishes up the last of her meal and cleans up. Grinning, she trots over to the planner hanging on her wall to check her schedule for the day. She keeps a rigid schedule to assure that nothing is ever left forgotten. Rigid enough, in fact, that she devotes an entire day at the end of each month to planning out the next month’s schedule.  “Birdfeeders,” she says to herself. “Got it.”  Moving to the living room, she digs up a small saddlebag and starts rummaging through drawers. First one, then another, and another, meticulously checking every spot. “Oh, where did I put it this time,” she wonders. She checks the kitchen, then her bedroom, her closets, her bathroom, all to no avail.  Frustrated, she makes her way back to the living room. “I guess I’ll need to buy more,” she huffs under her breath. She straps on the saddlebag and sets off, but stops short as she approaches the front door. There, propped against the wall right beside a coat rack, she sees a large bag of birdseed waiting for her. "Right. It's by the door, so I don't forget it." She laughs, shaking her head, and fills up her bags before finally setting off into the morning air. Checking the birdfeeders is one of Fluttershy’s favorite chores. She doesn’t normally do much flying, as she doesn’t like to go too high off the ground, but the birdfeeders are the main exception. She’s placed them carefully, thoughtfully, all at just the right height that she can flitter from one to the next to the next. Giving some attention to those oft-ignored muscles is important, yes, but it’s also just a nice change of pace. It’s rather refreshing to have a flying course that’s more her speed, although she hasn’t had much success in convincing Rainbow Dash that it’s suitable exercise. Fluttershy smiles as she relives their debates. “Dude,” Rainbow Dash had told her, “when I said you gotta work out more, I meant, like, for real.” “This is real,” Fluttershy responded. “It’s just not more than I can handle.” “Yeah, that’s the problem. You aren’t pushing yourself. I mean, how long can you even stay flying for nowadays?” “I’ll have you know I can stay up for at least twenty minutes.” “Fluttershy, come on. What would you tell me if I could only walk for twenty minutes before my hooves gave out?” Of course, Rainbow Dash was right. Of course she was. Fluttershy knows she has blind spots when it comes to certain things, and flying is very much a blind spot. It doesn’t stop being a blind spot just because she knows about it, though. There’s still days where Rainbow Dash has to practically drag her out of the house to get some exercise. Fluttershy appreciates those days. It’s good to have friends that care enough to put their hoof down sometimes. Taking care of the birdfeeders is actually very easy. No heavy lifting, no emotional strain. Fluttershy whistles a jaunty tune as she floats around, scooping seeds into little houses and fake flowers. She built them all herself, preferring to be able to specialize them for the birds in her area rather than buy generic ones, and over the years has become quite adept at woodworking. Not many ponies have seen her workspace, a secluded room in her home with a dusty workbench and tools covering the walls. If not for the half finished sculptures of foliage and fauna scattered about the room, one could easily mistake it for a misplaced extension to Applejack’s home. Fluttershy has done her best to make the space her own, though, and in the process grown to love the hobby. Her skill with the craft is also crucial for the second half of today’s chore. Birds, along with any other creatures which may use these feeders, are not always the most gentle beings, and crafted wood is not always the most durable material. The myriad scratches and dents that all the feeders get are no issue, and in fact Fluttershy believes that these signs of use are the mark of success, but it’s not uncommon for more substantial damage to occur. Petals broken off of flowers, holes bored in the walls of houses, chunks gouged out of faux wildlife. Fluttershy knows all too well the pain of a splinter from a fractured piece of wood, and goes to great lengths to keep her animal friends from feeling the same. So, while refilling the seeds, she makes a mental note of any damage she finds that needs her attention. Then she goes back home, puts back any excess birdseed, and goes into her workshop to scrounge up the necessary materials. Sandpaper to blunt a pointed edge. Wood glue to piece together shattered remains. Scraps from old projects to fill missing space. It’s not uncommon for Fluttershy to spend hours sitting under a tree, carefully sanding down the edges of an unused piece of wood until it fits perfectly into the scar left by an overzealous creature.  Today, however, brings very little of that. Fluttershy finds very few empty feeders, some almost untouched, and almost no significant damage. The only thing of note she finds is a birdfeeder which had spilled its contents onto the forest floor. Examining it, she sees that the bottom had completely given out, the wood rotten completely through. Unsure of how to easily fix the issue, she elects to instead take the feeder down and into her workshop to begin a longer project of fixing it.  As she hangs a temporary replacement, Fluttershy looks curiously at the pile of seeds on the ground. I wonder why those didn’t get eaten, she thinks. Have they gotten tired of the food I’ve been getting? Maybe I should get something new. Back inside the house, Fluttershy marks her planner and smiles. The other reason the birdfeeders are her favorite chore is that it’s the only one she schedules on those days. She can never know how long repairs will take, so she elects to take the rest of the day off. Today, she finished so early that she practically has the whole day to spend as she pleases. What to do, what to do, she wonders. She floats into the living room and lounges on a sofa. Maybe invite somepony over? Oh, but then I would have to clean up. I suppose I could go see somepony else, but who? Pinkie would want to invite the whole group, and I don’t think I have the energy for that. I just saw Twilight yesterday. Oh! Hang on… She hops off the couch and trots into her kitchen. Sure enough, she finds just what she expected: nothing. Fluttershy is very fond of her tea, having a cup nearly every day, and as such she always keeps it in sight right behind her kettle. That way, she can always see at a glance if she’s run out, which is exactly the case today. She grins at the empty counter and bounds for the door, deftly grabbing a saddlebag as she heads out. “To Rarity’s!” “Whoops,” she says as she barges back in a second later, “almost forgot to put food out for Angel. He would have been so mad.”