Pollen Season

She dreamed about the seasons that night, existing on a scale of days that passed in seconds, the beat of leaves and flowers that grew and stretched and moved as if they were creatures themselves. The trees were alive and complained about the hurry of the plants, and the plants laughed at the mad rush of animals moving about them in a blur of speed.

Withania slowly opened her eyes as the glow of dawn fell upon the garden. She could hear normally now, the change from being suspended in the nectar making it seem like she had a universe of space around her, instead of being enclosed in another entity. Above her head the Tegmen flower was slowly opening to greet the dawn, and bathing her in a dappled white glow.

She remembered to breathe, and coughed, splattering leftover nectar on her forehoof. But rather than sticking, the golden liquid beaded and rolled off her fur like fresh dew, before falling down into the neck of the flower.

She was laying back against the half-open petals, her hind legs arranged around the stigma, no longer over it. Part of her brain missed the feeling of it already, but the weightless feeling of being a seperate creature was a refreshing change after her experience. She watched the flower slowly open as she mused. It was probably the early hours of the morning, just before proper daybreak. The flower had held her much longer than she had intended, but she regretted nothing, a thoroughly satisfied smile resting on her face.

Once the flower was more or less in full bloom she stood and moved to the edge with the balance of a mountain goat, quite unlike the heavy sack of potatoes she’d been akin to yesterday, and looked down. The ladder still lay to one side, but there was room to jump. The cold flagstones between the garden plots hit her harder than she expected, bringing her mind thoroughly back to earth, and she heard a strange rustle from her mane and tail. She twisted her neck to asses herself and her jaw dropped open in astonishment. The dappled pattern she’d seen in the flower wasn’t the light. She had petals.

Like the spots on a leopard, small pale green petals dotted her coat, running inline with the fur. Her hair too, had undergone transformation, thin ivy-like tendrils were interlaced into her mane and tail alike, revealing the source of the rustle she’d heard. She looked up at the glass wall of the green house next to her to see her reflection – and nearly fainted.

She was beautiful. Withania was an earth pony of the most literal garden variety and although she cared about her looks, she knew herself to be more of a country aesthetic than the high-fashion of a boutique – but staring at her dim reflection in the glass, she felt like a show stopper in the ballroom of the Grand Galloping Gala.

Coming back to her senses for a moment, the chill of the morning was setting in. She frowned at the eastern glow and made her way indoors and put the kettle on to boil.

As the water hissed she sat down and looked more closely at her foreleg. The petals were a mix of the pure white Tegmen flower and her own green shades. They were smooth, but slightly fibrous in nature, as if strands of fur had dreamed of being something else. She took a deep breath and used her other forehoof to pluck one out.

It came out easily, and she felt no discomfort, however the slight tug at her skin under the fur revealed that it really was attached to her. The same thing happened with her mane-tendrils. They were finer than any ivy she’d seen, and grew tiny leaves of their own.

She would later discover that the vines and petals were not permanent, and fell out with the slightest brush – but for the moment she felt like the high princess of the earth ponies. She finished making her tea and carried it back outside into the brightening dawn.

The Tegmen flower stood proudly in the corner of the garden, its enormous pure white flower reflecting light across the other plants, the new mother of her garden. She sat down to admire it, mane-tendrils falling across her face, and sighed deeply.

“Well… that sure was something.”