Welcome to my garden of magic

And so it begins

On a Sunday, down by the river in Peka Glade, the heat radiating off of my body encourages mist to jump up in the air. A deep breath in and exhale out. The peace of this place is calming, despite such a rapid heartbeat within my chest.

I have come here every day for many weeks now. The weeping willow trees that provide great shade, the river that provides great depth, the songs of birds that provide inspiration. I want to dance in the grass, smell the morning dew, kiss the sun, hug the wide blue sky. But I'm afraid my arms cannot stretch wide enough, my legs do not have enough strength, my senses are not tuned enough to fully comprehend the day.

And so, I sit by the river and wait for something to come and take me over. I feel that, with time, I will be able to truly experience all that this place has to offer.

A greeting

On a Thursday, when the sun is shining brightly overhead and the shadows have no place to hide, I dip my feet into the waters of Peka Glade. A tingle spreads across my body, raising goosebumps on my flesh. I feel that, should I soak long enough, I will come to learn the secrets this place has to whisper in listening ears.

Before I can shake out of my cloak to truly dip into the waters, a noise distracts me, calling for my attention. I slide out of the water and into my discarded wedges. Crawling forward, my hands pressing prints into the dirt, I perk my ears and narrow my eyes, attempting to find the being who has called for me.

And there, a striking purple against the green, I see her. With feathers that feel more like flower petals, a Tuliplum squawks again. As if the Glade has shown me light, I know instantly her name. Taima. Not one that I have given her, but rather, one that the world has bestowed on a worthy child.

She hops toward me, and I scoop her into my arms. We sit by the riverside together.

The inspiration

On a Monday, when the clouds have come out to play, I see sparkles on the water. Bits of light that shine through, like spotlights among the grey.

Though this river valley is beautiful, I look around and see that it is not colorful, like the Peka Glade the visitors know. The grass is bright and green, the trees are fresh in stark contrasts of green and brown, the sky is blue and grey and sometimes pink and red and purple. But mostly, this place is green and blue and brown. How dreadfully dull.

Sleeping on the grass at my bare feet, though, rests Taima, still a beautiful purple Tuliplum that nobody can deny. When curled up like that, her head looks like the blooming of fresh flowers. A wiggle of her tail reminds me of the way such flowers would look with a bit of wind to call them to the dance floor.

And in that moment, I know what I have been waiting for. I can no longer rest and wait for time to come to me. For now, it is my time to repay the Glade for that which it has shown me.

Planting days

On a Friday, the sun beams strongly and evaporates all of water's attempts to cool the day.

With my hands and Taima's beak, we dig holes in the ground in no particular order or creation. Just that which the earth seems to call out for. No hole is forced, but each opens up willingly.

Within each hole, we place a bulb. Various tulips of colors unknown, but some spring day shall show us in the future. With light and water and the love of nurturers, I am certain that the garden will grow bright and vibrant.

After we have finished the task, spreading each bulb that we have among the trees and grasses and banks of the river valley, Taima and I rest. And again, we wait.

Visitors

On a Tuesday, after a long rain that raised the water of the river and threatened to choke plant life, the sun shyly comes out. And by the river bank, we sit.

We inhale the smells of life in the air, the pollen dancing in what little breeze exists. As if by the spirit of the Earth, the garden has grown strong and resilient. It never hesitates to bloom, to bring joy and light and color to the creatures of this place. Even when its only audience is a daydreaming girl and her Tuliplum.

Somehow, although we have long since called this place home and rarely venture out, word has spread to neighboring communities of the Garden of Tulips. Shielding my eyes from the brightness of the sun, which has now dared the rain to come back and fight with it, I see a small man and his young child coming up over the horizon.

I close my eyes and wait for him to approach. I know what he seeks, as I have seen many like him over theses past days and weeks. He, too, wants the gift of this valley, seeking blessings and knowledge.

I do not mind the intrusion. How can I, when I am also an intruder among this valley? Though I am one the valley has come to accept. I hope that when he and his son leave, though, they feel the inspiration and glory of this place, and leave with a warmth radiating from them, like the light that I have come to shine with.

Pet Treasure

Solar Powered Tulip

Emma Plushie

Bundle of Tulip Seeds

Tulip Bulbs

Crimson Tulip

Purple Floral Sash

Purple Tulip

White Floral Sash

Flower

Silver Floral Sash

White Tulip

Mint Floral Sash

White Tulip Sticker

Heirloom Tulip Seeds

Yellow Tulip

Green Floral Sash

Yellow Tulip Sticker

Lavender Floral Sash

Flower Teacup

Pink Tulip Sticker

Pink Tulip

Yellow Floral Sash

Orange Tulip

Neutral Floral Sash

Red Tulip Sticker

Charcoal Floral Sash

Black Tulip

Cornflower Floral Sash

Pet Friends