Moonbeams: a glimpse at chapter 4
Chapter 4 of Moonbeams likely won’t grace your screens until next week, as I’ve many a research paper to write for university and it’s taking up all of my time, bUT I wanted to give you a piece of the (draft of the) chapter’s start to hopefully quell a bit of your curiosity. :) Here you go!
By the time Claire bid Joe goodbye and placed the phone back on its receiver, Jamie had vanished into the depths of his greenhouse.
The physician within: stay inside, ankle raised, rest for a day or two. Stop hobbling around, Ms. Randall. Give it time.
If there was one thing Claire knew she excelled at, it was giving medical advice--but following it? Well, she never claimed to be good at that. Besides, once she made it to the greenhouse, she could sit.
It was a small glass castle.
A damp heat greeted her at the door, thickening the air from above and warming the soles of her feet from below. The floor was a tapestry of diamond tiles in hues of lead and rust. Wooden shelves stretched around the entire perimeter, overflowing with greenery and rows of seedlings. Claire recognized a few of the plants--basil and mint, the common kitchen strains--but likewise there were many she didn’t know by name. Overhead, rubbery green petals as big as banana leaves overlapped one another in a lush knit, and long chartreuse fronds danced a sort of waltz in a breeze generated by small ceiling fans. If she leaned close enough, she could spot lingering dew magnifying plant veins like tiny wet spectacles. The moisture tickled her nose. She inhaled. The scent was earthy and rare. You couldn’t find this in the city, Claire thought, nor in the wilderness. This was an aroma that was cultivated, cared for, raised and nourished from infancy like a child.
Once, she’d read that mothers could smell the downy crowns of their babies’ heads and recognize something familiar there--something sweet and living. Of course, Claire had never known that for herself, but maybe it was like that with plants, too.
Again she breathed deep and long and held the sweet earth in her lungs. Yes, this was living. This was okay. Beautiful, even.
From above, a fine mist rained down on her head. Instinctively, Claire drew back and yelped in surprise. Blinked. And leaned back into the mist, welcoming it.
It stopped as suddenly as it had started. “I’ll be changing the irrigation system to a drip one soon,” hummed a voice from deep inside the greenhouse--somewhere behind a cluster of hanging plants, Claire thought.
She’d almost forgotten he was there. She licked water from her lips and was reminded of how thirsty she was.