Tiny Hills of a Cactus

Emerald hills are cluttered around in a small pot of soil. A round, maroon pot contains the integral nutrients of a plant's existence. The soil is damp, still holding remaining bodies of water. Tiny beige rocks fill the soil like a perfectly blended mixture. Hiding the dark, gnarly clumps o tangles, the hairs of the cactus, reaching out to survive. Its roots are a mess of stringy substances, concealed.

A lump of cacti stems rise from the pot, creating a duster of greenery. Small bumps hang on the bigger hills, like little blemishes on the plant. The green stems are plump and prime, filled with enough water to survive many more days. Weeks. The luscious color is the indicator of the nourishing water that it contains.

The stems are shaped like rounded stars, five sides, but still in the form of an oval. Miniature, thin needles are systematically placed along its five edges, on little white pads, adorning the plant with its prickly protection. Some are blocked by the surrounding stem segments, only the prickly needles peeking over their crowns. The clumps are in an elegant fashion, standing one beside the other.

From the initial rise of the fairy castle cactus, many of the stands on the outer ring ceases to grow. In the middle of the plant, a few thicker, more vital hills jut out over the tiny mounds on the edge. Two stem segments are distinctly different from the others, a pink flower rests at their head.

From afar, the flower looks like beautiful extension of a delicate fruit from the cactus. On the closer, more careful look, one will notice that the flower is faux, a simple, yet exquisite blossom made of straw.

In the middle of all the juicy, there is one mounted which stands the tallest. Its body is thick and full, prickly coat glowing, with a glorious pink flower crested on its crown. It is the one grand stem, finishing of the clutter of tiny hills.

Each little stem is like its own tower, creating an intricate design to a mystical fairy castle – hence its name. The turrets are like loyal watch towers to the castle. Its base is thick, strong, and stable and its arms are placed in an orderly array, one wall after the other.

The cactus keeps a slow but steady pace in thriving, inching its way higher into the air. It keeps a stable growth with adequate sunlight and water. The cactus smells of spring blossoms in a sweet summer breeze. It smells of pureness and nourishment. It secretes the fresh winds of the ocean's tide, faintly dissolving into the air around it.

When the plant is fed, the cold, glistening water trickles down the cactus' arms and into the dark soil of the pot. The water droplets magnify the glowing green pigment of the plant while washing away its thirst. Cleansing it. Some of the sparkling beads stay on the stems, resting atop the water pouches. Waiting for the plant to slowly let it sink into the barrier.

The fairy-castle cactus stands proudly in its little home. The mountains are watchful, grand and steady. There is no haste in the plant's essence, no rush nor hurry. They ever slowly grow, extending their towers and sprouting more fuzzy needles. Soon, the land will no longer have a cluster of tiny hills. Soon, it will be a land of great mountains.