the fire-flower harvest

inspired by california’s annual poppy superbloom

priscilla was hoping to fall asleep early for once, but the bright flashes outside had other plans for her. the light was so strong that it cut straight through her thick linen curtains.

she shot awake. they’re blooming already?

priscilla was sure that she had at least two more weeks. she hadn’t finished vetting the volunteers scheduled to help her manage this year’s harvest. stars, even if they had been vetted, how is she supposed to assemble them in the middle of the night? she steeled herself. she will just have to go at this alone.

sanja, priscilla’s flame-fox, greeted her at the door to her cottage. the creature’s fur glowed a gentle, warm orange, which confirmed priscilla’s fears. her flame-flowers were in full bloom, and if she didn't harvest them in the next few hours, their healing properties will weaken. she would be forced to sell them at a mark-down at the fair. priscilla cursed under her breath at the thought.

priscilla marched down her rickety porch steps, and sanja hopped gleefully ahead of her towards the glowing fields in the distance. the flame-fox left a trail of bright orange footprints in the dirt. priscilla smiled. at least one of us is having fun tonight.

the pair finally reached the garden shed nestled in the corner of her flame-flower grove. priscilla barely stifled a yawn as she used a rusting skeleton key to unlock the shed doors. in the musty space, priscilla grabbed a pair of garden gloves, a wheelbarrow, and a pair of tattered galoshes. she stepped back into the crisp night air with her haul.

“okay, sanja,” priscilla planted her hands on her hips. “let’s get to work.”