A/N
I can totally see Van Pelt as a garden chick.
Don't own, don't sue.
The ground yields easily to my bare hands. I grasp a handful of invading weeds at the root and end their reign among my flowers by pulling them from their earthy thrones and tossing them to the side. Task complete, I blow a stray strand of long red hair from my face and sit back on my haunches. Surveying the work of God and me, I cannot help but smile at the beauty of my garden. I love all the bits of color, but the chrysanthemums are especially beautiful this time of year. I remove my gloves and lean forward to graze the dark red petals of a 'Maroon Pride' mum. I fear it will not be long before the flower begins to fade, but I do not let that worry me as I settle back down, and simply observe. I have other flowers that will keep my garden vibrant.
I reach forward once more, and brush away a stray yellowing leaf from the folds of my favorite chrysanthemum. I breathe deeply, comforted by the warm autumn air and the smell of flowers. Gardening is my emancipation from the tribulations of daily life. I bring my stress with me as I tend to the plants. I let every negative thing out, and entomb it at the edge of my garden. With a job like mine, you cannot let the stress get to you. All the people you can do nothing for, all the aches you cannot ease, all of the pain you witness on a daily basis, it has to go somewhere, into a place where it can do no more harm. That place is the earth, and I am simply putting it back where it came from.
I notice the sun sinking lower into the sky. I rise from the ground and gather my tools. I walk to my front door and pause, stealing one last glance over my shoulder to my chrysanthemums, the acacia, the gladiolus, and all the other flowers that make up my very own piece of earth. As the last rays of sun race across my garden, I glance skyward and say a silent prayer of thanks. I bid my flowers a temporary goodbye, and enter my home, ready for whatever tomorrow brings.
Since all my other fics are titled from songs, I felt obligated to do the same here, so even though it has not much to do with the fic, the song is "Chrysanthemums" by Everclear.
The flowers are symbolic. The chrysanthemum means sensitivity, optimism, cheerfulness. I though that described Grace Van Pelt fairly well. Plus, acacia = concealed love (Hello, VanRigsby! Talking to you!). Gladiolus = strength of character, natural grace.
Also, if you have a decent knowledge of flora and gardening, please suspend your disbelief. I have no idea whether these flowers could thrive together, or at all in CA. Forgive me. :)
