Surveying the new domain, a world contained in a good quarter-acre with a fence, he felt something but could not name it. Tension and release? Maybe. Green stretching out, emerald sward flecked with a dusting of tiny lion's heads, electric yellow against the grass. Little kings of the lawn, eying him nervously. He would pluck them, they knew. That is the Law of the Jungle, which is universal. Even in small towns nowhere near the tropics.
He sighed, not altogether in regret. This was his jungle now, a mantle of ownership he willingly assumed. It was his place to slowly melt into the backdrop and find his missing parts. The thought of plucking the shaggy flowers spiked him with the tiniest pang of melancholy. Uprooting a living thing in the advancement of another life was just too close to the bone.
He would pluck, he knew. It had to be done. But not now, not on such a lovely spring evening. Lion hunting would wait until another time. He took one last deep breath of the cool air and went inside.
Behind him, the kingly blossoms swayed in the breeze, silently rejoicing in their reprieve.
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I'm so glad they got to stay another day ; -)
ReplyDeleteI was picturing the singing flowers in Alice in Wonderland and I mean the cartoon version as I have still not seen the one that just came out.
I've never seen lions contained by fences but, to be fair, I haven't travelled much.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of another book you ABSOLUTELY MUST read if you haven't already.
Man-eaters of Kumaon (Jim Corbett)
Uprooting a living thing in the advancement of another life was just too close to the bone.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. Happy Tuesday.
I'd enjoy their reprieve if not for the little five year old out in the living room who likes to pick up seed heads and tear them to shreds when we're walking home from school. By the time we get home he is covered in their spores and spreading his dandelion love across my lawn.
ReplyDeleteI never saw them as weeds but as flowers.
ReplyDelete