[ gahrth ]
- A yard or garden.
** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem—inspired by the word, garth, where does it take me? Where does it take you?
Richard heard of the enormity of it, of the breathtaking colors, and of the tantalizing smells, but, looking at it now, he knew that he would do as little justice in explaining the spectacle to the world as the others did to him. He walked through the archway made entirely of impossibly-long woven dandelions and into George’s garden.
Richard took a gasping breath as he actually forgot to breathe for a minute from the sight. They called it a garden, but it was of the grandeur of a forest. Richard thought, Dr. Suess.
Patches of flowers, shrubs, and bushes huddled together like they would in anyone’s garden, but, as a rose petal fell from one of the bushes, everyone jumped back. The petal moved the air, and the consequent wind blew Richard’s hair back. When it hit the earth, Richard felt the rumble beneath his feet.
He was in awe, to say the least…
… and continued his journey through the property with a grin ear to ear. So much to see, smell, and touch. Richard had his camera and his notepad to document his experience, but he never once picked them up. He knew he’d come back several more times, so there would be plenty of opportunity for all that.
Then, Richard saw him, the owner or creator, George. Richard walked into the Sunflower Forest, the sunflowers like giant sequoias, over to a man sitting with a book, leaning against one of the stalks.
“Sir…” Richard began, “George… I’m sorry to bother you, but I am so floored by this whole place I needed to say hello.”
Geoge looked up, smiling, and held out his hand to shake, “Nice to meet you. I’m so happy you’re enjoying it.”
“I’m sure you get the question all the time, but what’s the secret? How did you create this place?”
George looked around and then spoke in a whisper, “It will be our secret?”
“Oh, yes, I won’t tell anyone,” Richard said, and he meant it.
“The secret…” George looked around over his shoulder again, but there was no one else in the forest of sunflowers. “The secret is octopus fertilizer!”
Any Beatles fans? Let’s see if you got the few references in this story. Obviously, the whole thing is a nod to the song, Octopus’s Garden. Written by Ringo Starr, whose real name is Richard. Helped in the writing by George Harrison. George was also a serious gardener himself.
Then, there was an even subtler one, which was just when Richard first addresses George. He says, “Sir… George.” Now, when I wrote that, I thought George was Knighted along with Ringo and Paul, but it turns out that George and John never received a Knighthood. Apparently, the “rules” are that you need to be alive to receive it.
So, now I like that little “Sir… George,” part even better. How can you Knight only half the Beatles? Come on, my British friends! This is an outrage! We need to have a word with the Queen : )
I hope you enjoyed the brief stroll through George’s Garden today!
What do you think of Garth?
Should we all try putting some octopus in our gardens? Who wants to bet it’s already been tried? Lol.
Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did garth or my story take you?
If you liked this story, check out my podcast of short stories, More Than A Story.
Today’s word is from Dictionary.com.
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