Midnight Candy
Even on nights like this, where she shows only a thin waning crescent, the moon is beautiful. The sky, thankfully, is clear tonight and there are more stars shining than usual. Not nearly as many as would show in a rural setting, but this suburban night sky would do just fine.
Anna sits on her porch with the outer lights dimmed as much as possible. She wants to watch her moon garden blossom under the light reflecting off the moon. She works hard in the early evenings to pull out the weeds and dead leaves to keep her plants beautiful, healthy. Anna’s moon garden is her pride and joy, though she doesn’t talk about it to many people. Her garden was a quiet place meant for quiet enjoyment, a serene, therapeutic place.
She has some favorites, sure. Her columbine flowers are unique, larger purple petals shadowing the shorter, rounder white ones with yellow stigmas. The pink evening primroses are more of a light purple, veins showing through the overlapping petals. She loves her pinks, also known as dianthus flowers. A reddish-pink to white gradient always caught her eye, with the hot pink beginning at the center, and growing lighter to white petal edges. The petals grew like spirals, creating an almost psychedelic effect.
Finally, her favorites are her night phlox flowers, a reddish backing to the petals shown during the day, but five two-headed petals bloom at night. These flowers are also known as midnight candy, leading to the guests that Anna hopes to arrive soon.
Growing tired of seeing just moths flying about her garden, Anna delights in seeing the first few invited guests.
To anyone not paying much attention, one may think there are birds shoving their beaks into the flowers. However, Anna did not plant these flowers for the birds, but for the sweet, small bats that dash in every night to pollinate. The little brown bats are not aware of their importance, as most beings aren’t. They are just here to eat moths and nectar from her garden.
She wonders if any of these bats remember her. From previous nights where she watched them feed, sure, but do any of them recognize her from days spent with her and her colleagues bottle-feeding them? Repairing their delicate wings?
They are the reason she is here, up so early in the morning, waiting with a camera. She clicks a few pictures and hopes they turn out well. She watches them flit from flower to flower, and she is proud.
This results from her work, and now she sits, enjoying the consequences. Anna snaps a few more pictures and then watches the bats finish their work and fly off.
Maybe tonight these pictures will turn out well. Anna’s been researching cameras and lenses meant to capture high-speed moments and ones at night. Anna wants to show some nice photos to her coworkers.
She gets up from her seat on the back porch and walks forward. The few minutes of bat love are over, and she walks over to get a fuller view of her beautiful flowers. She looks to the moon and silently thanks her nighttime visitors, then walks inside with her camera.
The moon stays and watches over her home.