April Showers Bring Stories With Flowers

Not the flowers I saw today-
My sister is a great gardener
and takes great photos

I don't mind the winter like I used to. 

I've found some benefits to hibernating. Although I do often miss the sunshine and getting outside to walk and enjoy the beauty of nature. I suppose I'm especially impressed since I can't keep most plants alive.

If you've read any of my stories, you know many are set in the beautiful woods that surround where I live. Walking and bicycling through the areas crafted by nature helps to inspire my stories. 

Spring keeps trying to rear its head here in Pennsylvania, while Mother Nature teases us with a nice day, then another allowing the snow to return. 

Although I brag about my 'black thumb' that doesn't do well with any flowers, I really love to see them starting to push through the frozen earth with such determination to crane toward the sun. (unfortunately many will be disappointed if they arrive early, since the sun may be nowhere to be found.)

I usually don't know what their names are (I have to ask my Mom that), but I love to look at them. There's just something about that splash of color. 

Another one of my sister's pictures

As I walked today and saw more buds straining toward the sun, I was reminded of a flash fiction story I wrote years ago that I thought I'd share today.

The Sun's Kiss

Tanner wobbled forward. The prize lay ahead, swaying in the breeze, leafy arms reaching skyward. Bowls of color dancing like balloons tethered to green strings. Red as a juicy apple. Yellow as a ripe banana.

Plopping unceremoniously into the sea of color, Tanner caused multiple winged yellow and black diners to flee.  

Reaching out, Tanner stroked a soft shell. Pulling one off, he shoved the petal into his mouth.

“Tanner!” His mama squatted down.  Do you like my tulips?” 

Tanner frowned; his tongue already pushing the offender out. It didn’t taste as good as it looked.

His mama laughed. “Not for eating,” she inhaled deeply, “for smelling.” She offered the flower.

He recoiled until he detected the sweet scent, like his mama’s perfume.  

He sniffed, tickling his nose with the center, where he’d seen the bees eating.

Tanner tilted his face up and smiled, accepting the sun’s kiss.   

Do you Have a Favorite Flower? 

Author Bio: Maureen Bonatch grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernation—keeps her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music, and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line. Find Maureen on her website, Facebook& Twitter

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The Beginnings of a Poisonous Garden by C.J. Burright

Over the last decade or so, spring has brought with it an unfortunate tradition into my life. I go outside, inspired to garden with all the lovely flowers and innocent woodland creatures, and upon my return to the great indoors, it is inevitable. It has an appropriate name: poison oak, and the things it does to me are not in any way enjoyable. Puffy face. Horrible rash. Blisters. The itching is the stuff torture chambers in horror movies are made of. And I’ll be the first to admit that me + poison oak = dark things.

And while I was in that bleak place where I cursed the outdoors, plants, cats that wander into poison oak and bring it back to me, and even well-meaning husbands, the dark side of me (oh, yes. She most definitely exists) was inspired to write this post. What if, instead of beautiful flowers and edible vegetables, I planted a poisonous garden? *Rubs hands together and cackles* You never know when you might need to pass on a little poison, and here are a few plants that might be helpful. You know, so others might share in the misery.

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Narcissus. Grinding up its bulb and sprinkling it in…oh, I don’t know, chocolate chip cookies that your innocent victims won’t suspect…will cause nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. Too much can be fatal, so use accordingly. Did you know that this flower was named after the Greek legend Narcissus, who saw his reflection in water, became obsessed, and fell in? He drowned and made a comeback as the flower. Also, in ancient times, the flower’s perfume had a bad rep of causing headaches, madness and death. Definitely a good fit for a poison plant garden, eh? On the positive side, the bulbs may also be used as an antiseptic dressing for wounds, and mixing it (not too much!) with honey serves as a painkiller. I suppose it’s another case of user intent.

Lily of the Valley. Consuming its leaves and flowers will instigate irregular heart rate, digestive upset and mental confusion. Serving it to an unlucky, unsuspecting guest might make for good party entertainment, at least the mental confusion part. Once upon a time, Lily of the Valley was considered unlucky, said to have sprouted from St. Leonard’s wounds after he vanquished a dragon. That sounds like good luck to me, but whatever. And the Irish believe these flowers are used as fairy ladders…with a warning. The gardener who plants a bed of them will be struck dead in a year. So maybe keep only one plant in your poison garden. The ying to the poison yang: Lily of the Valley may alleviate the pain of gout, ease eye pain, restore speech, and help treat heart disease and memory. So once your victim is poisoned and undergoing mental confusion, if you’re feeling benevolent (or guilty) maybe you can use the same plant to restore their memory.  

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Nightshade. If you’re going to have a poisonous plant garden, Nightshade is a must. All parts of it are fatal, especially the unripened berries. Ingesting it causes intensive digestive issues, but more than that, Nightshade is alleged to be a favorite for witch’s spells. In centuries past, it was rumored that consuming small quantities would allow visions into the future. Take too much, though, and it’s madness instead. Also cool, Nightshade is an important ingredient for the flying ointment witches smeared over themselves to ride the skies. And keeping Nightshade close will keep evil spirits away. If only it worked on that demon poison oak…

via GIPHY
There are, of course, many other plants you could include in your poison garden, but I believe I’ve given you enough nefarious ideas for one day. Use your powers for good, people. 😊 Do you have any innocent-looking poisonous plants in your backyard? Are you vulnerable to the evils of poison oak like I am?