The iris

Text and drawing: Cornelia Noghiu

Proud of his flower, the iris rised through the high reeds to be sure it will be seen and admired by passerby. He chose the yellow color, because he liked how it glistened in the light of the summer sun, which sat on the sky all day long and played like a naughty child with his golden rays, illuminating only half of the lake, and another half left it in the shade of the trees from neighbors, then he changed his mind and changed the light to his own liking. The king of the water did not complain, for he needed and the coolness that refreshed his petals tired of to much heat. The water how covered him almost the knees it felt like a blessing on hot summer days.

He liked to admire himself in the mirror of the lake, and whenever he felt the stares of the curious passersby he stood motionless with his head pointing towards the sky, swinging slowly in the wanderer wind.

The trees young and old protected him with their bushy branches, for they really liked him. They remembered with nostalgia the days in which their crowns were full of brightly colored flowers, but they weren’t too sad, for year by year the fairy of spring gives them the same charming garment as a gift.

The ducklings come out soon from the egg swam happy close to him. There they stopped to rest, but they were removed by the worried mothers lest to spoil in any way the beauty of the iris of which rejoiced whenever they saw him, and he bent his head in a sign of gratitude for their care.  A diligent bee stop flight and asked for the permission to collect the nectar and he accepted gladly, trying to stay serious, for her small and skillful needle tickle him and made him laugh heartily.

Up, on the branch of an old oak tree two gossiping birds were discussing an alert tone, convinced that they will be heard.

– My dear, do you remember the lake from the neighbors? It is full of such flowers. No difference between them. Do not seem beautiful to me. What do you think?

– Beautiful! No way. One single color and not even that special, look at us what brightly colored feathers we have.

And began to stretch their wings and spin all around until one of them lost her footing and felt on the ground. Embarrassed she shook herself and flew off on the branch pretending that nothing happened. They lingered for a while, and seeing that does not appear any admirer, they left disappointed, determined to not return in the sign of punishment for their carelessness.

The Iris listened in silence the malicious gossip of the two birds, but he was worried, because he didn’t want to be a simple flower from a lot of other insignificant flowers.

A ladybird, as big as a pea, landed right in the middle of the flower and without rested even a minute, he started to count the spots on her back. As he suspected she had an extra one. Noting that someone looked at her, she stopped and said cheerful.

– At first glance, some may think I am the same as the other ladybirds, but today I convinced myself that I was special, just like you my friend, she addressed to the iris.