By: Maximilienne Lalonde
Last Updated on: November 28, 2021
Image by: Devesh Premkumar
Dove was a daisy that was planted in the intersection of Willow and Mill Street in the small town of Timberwallow. Alone,ーfor all her friends had either been picked or had dried and were forced to be taken out the groundー she lay silently, letting her mind wander wherever it wished. This she did everyday, as there was not much more for a flower to do in Timberwallow. Sometimes she thought of the weather and how she wished a small rain cloud could come and wet her petals with raindrops; sometimes she wondered what life outside her rosebush was like. To this, however, she did not spend much time thinking. “It must be very glum,” she had decided on a sunny day. “It must be very glum, because all I ever see of this town is glum people, whose only recomfort is picking daisies.” And to such reflections, Dove herself became glum, and quickly thought of other thoughts.
Daisy was a dove who lived nowhere specific. She had once been owned by a lovely girl who lived in a lovely house and had loved Daisy very dearly for some time. Daisy had been happy then. On one particularly rainy day, the girl let the little dove out of her cage (Daisy should have seen this as a sign of misfortune, but birds, clueless as they are, do not take signs very well). Caressing the bird eagerly, she informed Daisy that she would be leaving for a town a few hours off in a week’s time. “Mamma and Pappa said I could go live with cousin Agnes for a while,” said she. To this news Daisy gave a little saddened coo. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Mamma said she’d keep you well while I’m away. And I’ll be back soonー after all, a month isn’t very long, you knowーand I’ll have so many tales to tell when I’m back, and there’ll be so many things to do and so many new people to meet… oh, Daisy, I simply can’t wait to go!” The matter being spoken, the bird was put back in her cage.
The following week was used for the preparations of the girl’s trip. On the last day before her departure, the girl had opened Daisy’s cage door to feed her, and, being too much too excited to notice, had forgotten to shut it closed. Daisy, who had been very sorrowful for several days, suddenly decided that she wanted to flee. There was no thought behind her want of freedom. She wanted to flee. Noticing that her cage door was open, she hopped out and, seeing a slight crack near a window, squeezed through until she was outside. Once out, she flew away to the nearest town she met, and never went back to the girl. Sometimes Daisy wondered what happened to the girl she had once loved very much. "Was the girl sad that I left?" she wondered. To such reflections, Daisy became very glum, and quickly thought of other thoughts.
The town that Daisy had stumbled upon was a nice little town with the name of Timberwallow. It was a pretty little town with nice little houses, but it all seemed very glum. The people were glum, the animals were glum and even the trees looked glum. Daisy had decided to settle into what she thought the least glum corner of the town: between the intersection of Willow and Mill Street. Deciding that she should begin making a nest, she went scavenging for twigs and leaves and other loose things of the sort. Hopping to a nearby house, she noticed a patch of grass with but one flower in it. It was a very beautiful flower and Daisy had never seen a flower like the one that laid before her eyes. Fascinated, she hopped up to it and, without thinking, yanked several times on it until it came out of the ground and flew to the nearest tree.
The flower that we speak of is Doveー the daisy that is, not the birdー and to be yanked out of the ground she was not very delighted. When the bird settled on a branch, Dove was very eager to spit out her anger at it. “You! Bird!” she shouted. “How dare you pluck me out of the very ground without having been granted my permission?” Daisy was very stunned. "A speaking flower?" she thought. “Why! I’ve never heard of a speaking flower before!” she exclaimed. “Never heard of a speaking flower! What!” Dove said. “You’ve never heard flowers speak before? Why, you should know, bird, that all flowers speak. People just never have time to listen to them. Now answer my question, will you? Why was I taken out of the ground?” Daisy stood there for a little while, reflecting on the flower’s question. “I should think,” she began. “I should think it was on an impulse.” “An impulse! What! An impulse is not a valid reason to pull a poor flower like me out of his home!” Dove raged. “How is it not? I found that you were a very beautiful flower, and my first thought was to take you with me. You see, I’ve been very lonesome and glum lately, as I’ve fled my home. A beautiful flower was just what I needed to make me better.” “Ah,” Dove said. She softened up a bit at hearing this. “It is what everyone thinks. You see, the town you have landed in, I have observed, is a very glum town. Have you noticed that there are barely any flowers like I in all of Timberwallow? It is because flowers make everyone happy.” “Why, then, are you the only flower I have seen in all of Timberwallow?” asked Daisy. “I should think it is because I’m the only one, for all the others have been picked, and for flowers make people happy.” Dove replied.
Daisy and Dove sat silently on the tree branch for several minutes. Daisy broke the silence first. “Why doesn’t the town grow more flowers like you?” she asked. “Perhaps there are no seeds.” Dove replied. “None but me, because seeds do come from flowers, you know.” The flower then looked very glum. “Then could not you grow more flowers?” Daisy asked. “Perhaps I could. But I wouldn’t know how.” replied Dove. Once again, the bird and the flower sat in silence. “If I should shake you, shake you very very hard, would your seeds come out?” asked the bird once again. “My, you are a curious bird indeed,” Dove scoffed. “Perhaps they would, I could not know, I have never tried it.” The bird, excited by her excellent idea, began hopping on her branch. “Yes, yes! Then we should try it, we should indeed! Here is what we’ll do: I’ll sweep you up in my beak, and I’ll shake my head, shake it very, very hard, that I will. To such shaking your seeds should fall, and then we’ll have flowers, plenty of flowers!” Dove thought for a moment. “Perhaps there would. After all, it couldn’t hurt to try. But you kno-” Before she could finish, Daisy picked up Dove and off they went.
The pair flew over a very large empty field in Timberwallow, and Daisy shook her head very, very hard. After a while, Daisy became very dizzy and Dove too. “Well, I’ve done what I could,” Daisy declared in a wobbly way. “Now there’s nothing left to do but wait.” And so the pair waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Everyday they would fly to the place they had planted their seeds, but nothing ever happened. One day, Daisy noticed that Dove had started to become pale, and all her colours had faded. “I haven’t got much longer,” Dove said sadly. “I am an old flower, and I will dry away very soon.” Daisy, upset to see her friend doing so poorly, sat down in silence. “I will miss you,” she said. “I will miss you very much, my friend. Should we go see our field one last time?” And so the pair went to the place they had planted the seeds. The flowers had not sprouted yet. They sat in silence for a while. “You know, I like this place very much,” Dove said. “Why don’t you leave me here?” Daisy, upset to leave her friend, hesitantly agreed, and planted her in the damp soil. She waved her goodbye, and left.
A few days later, Daisy went back to the field. To her surprise, Dove was gone. Instead, all the soil was filled with sprouts. “Oh, Dove, we’ve done it!” exclaimed Daisy. Everyday, Daisy went back to the field, and very soon, the whole ground was filled with daisy patches. This was a surprise to all of Timberwallow. To seeing this, the town became less glum, and, quickly enough, everyone became happy again.
And that’s how Daisy the Dove and Dove the Daisy made Timberwallow a happier place.
P/N (Photographer's notes):
"A Young Robin Explores"
Our young robin 20-25 days old is exploring the new world after a frigid and wet thunderstorm. His endeavors of staying dry by taking cover under the great maple tree were crucial to maintaining a comfortable body temperature as well as supporting his ability to fly. Nutrient-rich insects are just beyond this tree that he must consume to develop his body and to meet a young Robin’s energy demands. In one year after migrating to and from northern Mexico, he will return to his nesting grounds and fulfill the cycle of life. Robins are the fundamental pillar of spring; the season of life.