Amy slowly woke to the warmth of the afternoon sun. She didn't open her eyes straight away as she contemplated dozing for another few minutes, stretching her tired muscles as if that action would bring them back to life at a more comfortable pace. It was only when she settled back into the hard surface she was resting against, that she remembered where she was and what she'd been trying to do.
"Damn it," she cursed herself as she sat up quickly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sudden change in perception.
The forest looked the same as it had that morning. The mixture of ancient native trees still stood on guard around her, the sunlight bouncing through their lush green summer uniforms like the rainbow reflections off a crystal. The tangling undergrowth that swelled between their mighty roots buzzed with life. Insects creeping and crawling, birds singing to the forest gods, the scurry of tiny woodland animals that she could never see, but knew they were there as the foliage shook around them.
The sturdy oak, who'd become her reading companion over the years, towered above her as always. His protective energy enveloping her, filling her with the sense that nothing could harm her whilst she was in his presence. She guessed that was why she found it easier to sleep in the cradle of his roots then she did in her own bed. Yet she knew somehow that something had changed whilst she'd wondered into the land of nod, and as always she'd missed it.
She knew, even before she looked down at her book, there would be a flower there. It was the same as all the others, the head was as big as the palm of her hand, the five wide petals arranged so that when you looked directly into the flower it had the shape of a five pointed star. The long, slender stem was unusual as it was the same impenetrable black as the deep of space. The few serrated leaves dotted along it were as large as the petals, but they weren't sharp at all, and their veins were silvery-white.
This time the flower was fiery orange, the centre a deep blood red that seeped like water colours into the surrounding petals. As with the others, the colour seemed unnatural and she found herself picking it up and gently rubbing one of the petals between her thumb and finger to check that it was real. It was refreshingly cold, as if it had captured the crisp breeze in its essence and refused to let it go. It was softer than anything she'd felt before, it made the memory of silk as rough as a burlap sack. It had a living texture and as much as her rational mind didn't want to believe it, nature had created this marvellous piece of art.
She'd kept every flower, placed them in a vase in her kitchen window, and as the collection of colours grew the realisation that there was something different about these flowers seeped in. She thought back to the first one, it was a sky blue with a turquoise middle and it smelt of the ocean. The fragrance was so at odds with what she expected from a flower that it should have sent a chill through her. But the salty perfume catapulted her back into memories of playing at the beach as a child. Building sand castles with her mother before she got bored and left her daughter to it as she turned her attention to sunbathing. Searching the jagged rock pools for crabs and shrimp with her older brother and jumping the waves with her dotting father. The gentle yet strong man who threw her into the lukewarm sea like a champion shot putter.
Each new colour had a whole new smell. The girly pink one with the white innards was just like cotton candy. That had been a rare treat when she was younger, it came with the fairground twice a year and she sunk into thoughts of bright lights and whirling rides.
The moss green and yellow flower was like freshly cut grass. She saw kids rolling down hills and jumping into cartwheels whilst she sat with her friends making daisy chains. The white and brown one was like chocolate, Easter bunnies and boxes of sugary goodness. The red and gold was toffee apples and fireworks on bonfire night. The list went on and on.
