Why Garden Eggs Smile — Under the tall tulips, Elowen rolled between cool stems, trying to fit her zigzag shell into any empty patch of earth. Read the full story →
Under the tall tulips, Elowen rolled between cool stems, trying to fit her zigzag shell into any empty patch of earth. The garden smelled of wet leaves and daisy pollen, and every flower seemed to know where it belonged: roots below, petals above, faces turned to the sun. Elowen had no roots, no petals, and no idea why her painted cheeks felt warm whenever the wind hummed.
At dusk, a silver moth landed on her shell with feet as light as dust. “You are late,” it whispered. “The flowers have been waiting for someone who can listen.” From beneath the soil came a tiny tapping: seeds too shy to sprout in the dark. Elowen smiled without meaning to, and the tapping changed to tick-tick-tick, happy as rain on a roof. One by one, the other eggs smiled too, and the seeds pushed up around them.
Ever since that evening, garden eggs have worn friendly faces so hidden seeds know spring has found them. If you peek among the tulips and daisies, you may spot the first shy sprout answering Elowen’s warm little smile.
