This week’s prompt is ‘Lilac Wine’ by The Cinematic Orchestra.
In the centre of my garden lives the Fairy Queen. She is the most serene and beautiful of all fairies. No matter the time of year or climate conditions she never gets flustered. She rules over her Kingdom with complete autonomy, respected and loved by all who live under her domain. I have often spent my mornings in her garden cup of tea in hand as we would chat about the garden, her world and mine.
(If you have read my previous stories about the fairies in my garden you would know that I am the caretaker of the various fairy worlds that exist in my garden)
The Fairy Queen first made herself known to me when I took ownership of this place after my father died some years ago and entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for the fairy worlds both good and bad. Each contributes to my garden in its own unique way.
Hers is a magic world. So often in recent times she has touched my forehead with her finger and instantly I am taken into her world. Here are the most picturesque gardens, vegetation rich in colour and vitality, flowerbeds that proffer a riot of colour; one I have never tired of.
I one corner of her garden is a space where a chessboard consisting of topiary shrubs in the shape of chess pieces.
It is the grandest of sights, the shrubs each immaculately sculptured, and as it is a magic world the pieces are coloured appropriately, half white and half black.
My first sight of this section of the garden left me mesmerised as I thought it the awe-inspiring thing I had ever seen.
The Fairy Queen loves chess. This I discovered as I stood beside her and watched as she waved her arm and a white pawn moved only to be obliterated in a cloud of sparks and singed leaves.
This is far more than a quaint romantic part of her garden, this is a serious game she plays against the black. One day she asked me to stand back as she sat and thought for a moment before again waving her arm and action started, her move countered by the black, the black’s move countered by her own.
Often she gets stumped and says she’ll come back later when she’s considered her next move.
Though she did wink at me one day having noticed my amazement at the game. She remarked that if I thought the normal game was spectacular I should be here when they play speed chess on the first Monday of every month.
The Fairy Queen and I have developed a rapport of the years. I report to her of goings on in other parts of the garden and she sees that any unrest between fairies is addressed and resolved.
Most days I have to say my garden lives in harmony with itself, so what she does is a mystery to me.
At the end of every visit she takes me aside, thanks me for being the garden caretaker and offers me a glass of Lilac Wine.
She has a special garden in which her peacock struts and shows his stuff, quivers when he see the queen and I am always sure of a showing of his magnificent feathers. Of all the places in her garden this one place fascinates me most. There is a magic feel about it, as if there are forces beyond my comprehension at play in this one small space.
She has told me on several occasions not to try and understand it but to accept the magic of the garden.
Every time I drink the Lilac Wine she says in her impish way: ‘Sip it slowly, it will only do you good.’