Preisha Writes

A solitary sunflower seed had been trapped beneath a thick blanket of autumn leaves for too long. Months had passed with it huddled in the claustrophobic darkness, oppressive oak trees blocking all sunlight. Beetles found seeds all around to eat, and the seed could hear their hard, scuttling legs all around. Ignorant of its surroundings, there was nothing it could do but wait in sharp fear.

Before a storm had blown it into the deep crevices of an oak tree’s root, the seed had been promised water plentiful flowing through the earth for roots to be nourished, and enough sunlight to grow to incredible heights.

Yet here, encircled by ancient roots, the promise was nearly forgotten. The world had grown bitter without reason, and without having a reason, the seed felt angry.

Then came the great cracking of the season. Violent showers of rain dissolved the earth, softening hard dirt into stews of mud. The rushing water dislodged the seed, washing it into an open, softened expanse of soil just beyond the oak’s shadow. As the downpour receded and the mud settled, the seed felt the sudden, stinging shine of the sun. It was an aggressive, blinding heat that seared through the dampness of the storm, blinding the hardened husk of our seed which had been blinded by darkness for so long.

Memories returned of stories describing what the seed had been deprived of for so long. Forgetting the near past of desolate roots and frozen earth, the seed was ambitious. It would not grow- instead, would take advantage of what the savior of sunlight had granted it after the long seasons of denial- and thrive.