Collab Cage Mini-Monthly May (B) -- Trouble in Bloom

by The Collab Cage

Bellis Perennis

Written by: DarkPhoenix

Flowers are perhaps one of the most noticed, yet most overlooked plants in existence. Everypony notices a beautiful rose, or a lily floating in the pond, but few ponies take the time to recognize or even acknowledge the more common flowers. The sunflowers, the carnations, the mums, nopony gives these a second glance, or even a first.

No, most ponies are content to go about their day in peace, not noticing the flowers who give them such wondrous beauty, who fill their lives with color. Maybe a nice bouquet from time to time, or perhaps a sandwich, would draw their attention.

In Ponyville park, where the flowers are allowed to grow free, unrestrained by such things as garden plots and fences, there exists many flowers. Growing in clumps, ponies frolic and play amongst them.

One such flower was a common Bellis Perennis. If somepony were to make a definition of “Average flower,” then a picture of this particular flower would be right next to that definition. It stood no taller nor shorter than its fellows. It had no additional petals, the flower part was no larger. It was in all respects, average amongst a clump of average.

But this flower had something special: it had a desire. From the time it had first peeked its head above the soil, soon after the winter snows had been cleared away, the flower had seen many things. Most of what it saw were ponies, come to visit the park.

Life for a flower in Ponyville park was hard. There were many dangers which threatened to end their lives prematurely. This particular flower had survived the spring rains which had washed away so many others. Wandering hooves could trample it at a moments notice, but so far it had been spared.

Other dangers, such as being picked, were welcome to flowers. As much as they loved being able to show off their colors and arrange their petals just so, to be picked and displayed in a house, or given to somepony else as a gift was the desire for all flowers.

Our flower, the flower, desperately desired to be picked. Every morning it would make sure its petals were arranged in the most eye-catching, pleasing manner possible. It would tilt its head, pointing it toward the sun so as to absorb the most sunlight, ensuring maximum nutrition.

Day after day it waited, blowing in the warm breeze. Day after day, ponies came to the park. Every time a pony came near the flower, it got excited. Was this it? Was this the pony that would pick it and give it away?

But it was always disappointed. Some days it had been so close. It could remember one time when a pair of fillies were playing nearby, picking flowers and weaving them into crowns. Closer and closer they came, giggling and laughing, talking to each other. Just as they were getting close, only two more flowers before it, a voice rang out and the fillies ran away. The flower was sad. It had come so very close. Another few seconds and he would’ve been added to the a crown.

Another time and another little pony, a colt this time, was picking flowers, bunching them up in a hoof. He wandered through the clump, eyeing various flowers and pulling them at random. The flower made sure it was presentable, petals spread wide. The colt’s eyes ran over it, before stopping and coming back.

Just as he was reaching out, hoof mere inches from the flower, he noticed something that made him gasp and freeze. The flower waited, hoping, praying that the colt would continue what he was doing. But it was not to be, the colt ran off towards a mare. Happily he presented the bunch of flowers to the mare, who smiled and thanked him.

Once more the flower had been denied being a part of something special. Once more it was forced to watch as other flowers got picked, left behind feeling disappointment, sadness. Soon, it told itself, soon it would get picked and get its chance to be something.

Today was no different day. It had rained the other day, so the only ponies coming into the park were dashing through, none stopping to pick flowers. But today the sun was shining and many ponies were outside enjoying the day.

The flower spread its petals wide, making sure to sway in the breeze to draw eyes towards it. There was no bend in its stem, so when the wind was still it stood straight and proud.

The park was full most of the day, foals running about while parents sat in the grass or on benches, watching them. A few ponies brought their pets out, tossing objects for them to fetch or just enjoying a nice walk. Blankets were set out for lunch, baskets full of food presented. A few ponies sampled the flowers, adding them as a garnish, but not our flower.

Fillies and colts picked flowers, but not our flower. No, the sun was setting and ponies were leaving, and the flower still stood, planted firmly in the ground. Another day passed and it was stuck once more in the park.

As the sun set and the moon rose to take its place, two ponies approached the clump. A stallion and a mare, they came and sat down near the flower, eyes towards the rising moon.

They spoke to each other, though the flower wasn’t paying any attention to what they said. It was too lost in its disappointment at being overlooked once more.

The ponies sat there amidst the flowers, looking at the moon. Or at least the mare was. The stallion was looking around, eyes shifting across the ground.

The flower took notice of this and quickly stood up straight. It waited, waiting. The stallions eyes moved across it, continuing on. Just as it was about to give up hope again, eyes found it.

The stallion locked his eyes on the flower. Quick glances back towards the mare, and with a swift move, the flower was plucked from the ground, cradled in a hoof.

Elation flowed through the flower. Finally, after so long spent waiting and watching others get picked, it was finally its turn. Here it was, being held by a stallion. Now all that was left was to see what it was going to be used for.

The stallion held up the flower to the mare. Her eyes went wide, and she smiled. With gentle movements, he tucked the flower behind her ear.

The flower floated in a cloud of pure joy. This was it, this was its purpose, its meaning in life. Right here, in this moment, being presented to a mare by her stallion was all it needed. Rather than be a part of a bunch, it was single, solitary, which made it all the more special.

The ponies embraced, a quick kiss passing from the mare to the stallion. They walked off, the flower kept safe behind the mare’s ear, content with everything. No matter what happened next, it was satisfied, fulfilled. Its desire had been sated.

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