The life of a Fleet-footed Fuchsia Fairy was never easy, Herman reflected as he shook out his stamen wand and moved on to the next blossom.
You had to have patience, and an eye for detail. You had to be quick and stay out of sight of Unbelievers.
It was thankless too. For you had to open each and every flower in turn, even the blossoms that no eye would ever look upon. And he did too—for the hummingbirds. Well, for one particular hummingbird.
“Hi Mazie,” he said, blinking, for the light was behind her. Even so, she was every iridescent shade of forest and ocean and sky. She hovered for an instant and nodded appreciatively at the blossom he’d coaxed open just that morning.
“I thought you’d like that one,” he said. He realized he was blushing, so he flapped down to a lower branch, which had some new buds that needed tending. From there he could watch her.
She was so beautiful.
This has been an edition of the Sunday Photo Fiction Prompt, hosted by Al Forbes. To read more or to submit your own, click the blue froggy button: