Previous Posts:  Part 1 – Sun  /  Part 2 – Moon  /  Part 3 – Mouse

The following day played out much the same as the night. Sun spent the entire time staring across the garden at Moon, who basked in her planter box overlooking the garden.

Right as the light faded, Mouse returned to Sun with an offer of help. She could dig deeper around his base or find a way to coat her teeth so they weren’t so sharp. Sun refused to answer. He stood still as a statue, staring across the garden at Moon.

Days went by and Sun began to visibly change. His leaves wilted and his vibrant yellow petals began to fade. Try as she did, Mouse couldn’t get Sun to respond. And so, each night after trying to reach him, Mouse left his side to search for food to feed her children.

After a week, Mouse hardly returned to see Sun. After a month, Mouse stopped visiting all together.

Then one night, a mighty storm came upon the canyon. High in her planter box, Moon swayed in the wind, beautiful and wild as ever. Stronger and stronger, the rainstorm tore through the garden. Its powerful force bent Sun’s stalk, leaning him towards Moon. At the same time, gusts rushed down from the mountain, bending Moon closer to him.

Did he dare hope? It wasn’t much. Sun’s roots hadn’t budged, but his head drew a few inches closer. Perhaps the storm might carry his words?

As the next gust howled, Sun stiffened his stem and leaned towards Moon. He called out, but she still did not reply. Again and again, he called to her. But it was no use. With so many other plants shouting and the howl of the wind, Moon could not hear him.

Then the wind shifted. Racing across the ground, it came from below, pushing him upward. Sun’s buds were gone and his leaves wilted, but his branches were still strong. Holding them out high, he gathered his power and leaned towards Moon with all his might. Pulling and stretching, he reached for her until at last his main root tore free.

Through the blackness, he screamed as the wind picked him up out of the soil and he began to float off into the night. The breeze settled for a moment then changed course. Instead of carrying him away, it hauled him towards Moon.

Suddenly, his untethered roots didn’t hurt so bad. He was close now, surely she could hear him.

“I am Sun!” he calls out.

Pausing in her storm dance, Moon looked at Sun and called back. “I am Moon!”

“I have come very far to be with you,” said Sun, still floating towards her on the wind.

“I am happy you are here,” said Moon, as he drifted closer.

“I have been watching you dance in the moonlight and bask in the sunlight,” said Sun. “You are the most magnificent dandelion I have ever seen. As beautiful as the moon and all the stars in the sky.”

“Thank you,” said Moon, “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Yes, yes! Very much,” said Sun, who still floated closer through the darkness. “Wait for me, I am almost there!” Lifted by the breeze, he gazed beyond the garden to the great house, to the mountains and canyon, all the way to the ocean in the distance.

Then suddenly the wind stopped, and Sun was falling. So slender and light it seemed to take forever, Sun tumbled towards the earth. Another gust tore at him, pulling him towards the house. He almost struck the wall when the wind shifted again. Twisting and turning, Sun angled his branches towards Moon. Holding his wilted leaves up high, he slowed his descent. As he drifted down to her, their heads drew close.

“I am here, My Love,” he whispered.

“Come to me,” said Moon.

Their flower heads touched. His golden yellow disc brushed her pale white globe. With that soft caress, the surface of Moon’s face shattered. A tiny pinwheel seed broke off. It floated up into the night, followed by another, and another.

“Come to me,” whispered Moon again. “Set me free!”

Throwing out his long limbs with their wilted leaves, Sun floated down atop of Moon and wrapped himself around her. Then with all his passion, Sun leaned in and kissed Moon deeply. As he did, dozens of pinwheels drifted from her face into the air.

More and more, the pinwheel seeds of Moon’s face drifted into the sky. Soon there were hundreds, then thousands floating in the night. The garden sparkled, full of pale white pinwheels sailing through the darkness. They swam up, carried by the wind over the garden, beyond the house, and into the canyon.

As they floated away, they rose into the heavens, where they became the stars.

As each tiny Star took its place in the sky, it whispered back to Sun.

 “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

***