I watched them smile happily at each other; I stood wide eyed at the fluidity of their movements: bending with each gust of wind and the sun warming their leaves, making them shift slightly. I kept my distance as I observed them, they tracked the sun with a hidden compass and never straying from their designated path. Each day they would lift their heads to the sky and gaze longingly at the pale golden rays blazing above them.

They would twinkle little melodies each time the sun would break from a stray cloud and shine even brighter. Their green hands would fold downward when the rain fell from the above, like tiny, clear pearls dropping delicately to the ground. I'd watch in amazement at the long complicated dances they would perform for their only audience, the Sun.

With their leafy tendrils they would carry loved ones high in the air, illuminated by the sheer joy the sunlight brought them. Raising their voices in unison they sang praise for the shower of golden rays that woke them each morn and the sadness they felt as the sun dipped below the horizon. Their rituals never ceased to amaze me, I would gaze with loving awe at each head of sunshine yellow. I had tried once to imitate them. My neck became terribly stiff and sore afterwords; I learned that I was not meant to love that glistening orb as they did.

It was a cloudy day, the kind when the sun would peek every so often behind a veil of wispy clouds and grace their floppy, yellow petals with his presence. The faces of the sunflower people would light up every time the sun appeared behind the dark grey cloud and they would frown in despair at each cloud that drifted in the face of the fiery orb. I found myself smiling each time the sun lifted the clouds and placed them aside and frowning when they waved their frothy tails in the face of the sky.

It was then that she spotted me, a young sunflower with brilliant golden petals that shimmered with each snippet of light that filtered through the clouds. I became frozen with fear; my ears had flopped down and I then began to tremble. I had seen them only as beautiful creatures but I did not know if they could, or would, hurt me because of my curiosity.

We stood there with my eyes steadily averting her intense gaze blowing forth and landing gracefully on my quivering form. My bushy tail twitched nervously and I felt my heart race with such intensity. I thought it would burst like a punctured dam at any moment. I glanced up at her; lush chestnut eyes quickly met the meek, amber tones of my own.

Perhaps I gasped at the sincerity of what she did next. I think I did, I'm pretty sure I did. She reached down, slowly, as if not to frighten me and began petting my muddled fur. Her smile radiated a loving glow to my heart with a resounding feeling that left my legs --and body-- feeling numb.

She reminded me of mother, when she would snuggle close to me and whisper sweet dreams into my ear and remind me that tomorrow was another day. I felt the brush of soft leaves and a fragile grip on my underbelly--she had lifted me off the ground and placed me in her arms. My first instinct was to panic but she began singing softly in my ear, with a magical quality fraying the edges of her voice.

"Rei'no'ea!" I heard her whisper to another sunflower, "Look, a baby fox. The one who watches us."

She inched closer to me, as if she was afraid that I would rip her beautiful locks of yellow-cream to shreds and use them for a nest like a bird. Her eyes were wide, riddled with cautious layers of interest as she moved closer to me.

When she saw me up close she spoke, "The poor dear. Look how mangy he looks. He must be starving and exhausted. Put him in a bed and give him some food, we will let him be after that."

"I'm going to keep him,” she cooed at me, while playfully wiggling one of her viridian leaves above my head.

I laughed and tried to catch it while remaining safe within her arms; I mewed softly as she let me catch the leaf, gently, in my mouth.

She smiled widely and exclaimed, “See, Rei’no’ea! How can we leave such a helpless baby in the world? I am going to be his mother from now on,” she seemed determined to help me and I was more than grateful for her kindness.

“You know you can’t keep him. He doesn't belong with us," her voice was far from cruel, but the words stung anyway, I had done nothing wrong. Why did she shun me with such grim feelings?

“He does now,” she paused, “He is my son,” her voice sparkled with passion and a mother's ferocity.

She walked with me in her arms and she was still cooing at me like a sweet-tempered dove without a care in the world. Her singing quietly lulled me, I felt happy and at a peace I barely remembered. She only saw me and I saw only her--my mother.