“I am a special sunflower,” said the sunflower, which had a particularly beautiful place in a colorfully decorated flower pot on the patio under the roof of the house. “But you are boring. And very ordinary.”
She looked proudly at her colleagues. They stood in the sunflower bed at the back of the garden, bolt upright, one next to the other. They did everything together. In the morning they turned their heads east towards the church tower in unison. It was as if they were waiting for the bell tower to toll. From there, her eyes wandered through the day with the sun. At noon they bent their blossom faces over the garden fence to the south on the path. In the afternoon their eyes were directed to the nearby supermarket and in the evening they looked across to the mountains where the sun said goodbye to the day.
So they were wandering all day long. They accompanied the sun and yet stood firmly with their roots in the earth.
The flowers were content with their existence. What could be nicer than being able to accompany the sun? Yes, and they didn’t get bored in their bed in the vegetable garden either. There was so much to see here in the garden and on the path in front of the fence. The sun’s rays caressed their flower heads, the fair-weather clouds smiled at them and butterflies, bees, bumblebees and summer beetles buzzed around their heads. Many birds also came. They rested in the flower bed and chirped about their adventures. Sometimes they carefully pecked at the round sunflower dish with their beaks and, almost shyly, took one or two flower seeds. They tasted sweet. After summer and sun.
And the sunflowers that smiled. Everyone was there for the other. To give and to take. That’s how it felt right, this life.
Only the very special sunflower in the flower pot on the terrace of the house was different. She had grown tall and strong and the petals were particularly colorful with their orange-brown petals. But nobody saw them, the birds, bees and butterflies and neither did the clouds. Only aphids had settled on their flower stalk at the top of the flower. They weren’t welcome guests. People who entered the terrace sometimes paid no attention to the flower. There were more important things in human life.
“I’m a special sunflower,” the sunflower called out again, sadly looking over at the flower bed. “Do you hear? A very special flower in a very special place.” And softly, very softly, she added. “And I’m lonely.”