Bluets: A symbol for contentment – by Megan Luebberman (High School)
After a strenuous journey up the trail, she was near collapse from exhaustion. Yet, when she reached the very top, the low, grassy meadow laid out below gave her breath back all at once. Tiny, tight clusters of soft blue were scattered throughout the wispy greenery.
She had not been back to this spot in what seemed like a lifetime, but it had not changed. The shady clearing was encircled by the same thick trees that watched over everything, acting as guardians to the sacred land.
“Go back to the place of our childhood.” Her sister had written.“Speak to the little blues for me.”
Her tired legs carried her down into the clearing, the soreness completely forgotten. The ground was soft and bent under the weight of her heavy trodden steps, but she didn’t notice how the earth hugged her feet. She was focused on the blue poking out from the patches of reindeer moss, subtle but boldly standing tall. They seemed to be flashing her smiles with their distinctive pale yellow centers that swayed ever so slightly in the breeze.
As young girls, they would sneak up here from their house down the hill. Life was idyllic then, only the nature and their father to guide them. Their home had been relocated since, and her sister chose to leave for the military at the same time. It was in the last letter that she mentioned this place again and that had been five years ago.
She suddenly sank to her knees in anguish, and then laid on her back to let the land give her breath once more. The petite bluets surrounded her head, a few stroking her cheek when she turned over to look at them directly.
“My sister says hello.” She whispered to them with a small smirk. They bowed in the wind as a response.
The bluets would always be there to remember them, passing on the story of two girls in murmurs across the woodlands. This she was certain of, because, after everyone was gone, the flowers would forever have memories of it all.