Steampunk Family

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Letter from Mother to Philomena, January 27

By Madame vonHedwig on Wednesday, January 28th, 2009

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My Dear Child,

I was most distressed to hear of your difficulties with my messenger pigeon, for it is mine, I’m afraid.  May I first say that your sister Claire does not generally share your correspondence about the household, but since she had taken the bird from the coop in my greenhouse (without asking!) she had to come to me for advice.

If she had asked me, I would have found her milder minion, but she is ever secretive and independent!  The birds in my greenhouse are not for general use.  They are experimental, and, well, they are not actually birds at all.

If you will take away its water and throw a blanket over the laundry basket in which it is currently confined, you will be better able to examine it closely.  Three days should do it.  It must be kept in darkness to neutralize it, for it is powered (as are, ultimately, all things on this earth) by the Sun.  When it has shut down (and perhaps you had best examine it after night falls, just to be safe) you will see that what you have taken for feathers are, in fact, leaves.  It is made up of a plant covering a clockwork, bird-shaped frame.  The frame, which your Father built for me, is capable of mimicking the movement of an average pigeon.  Over this frame I have grown a rather special plant hybrid, capable not only of converting sunlight to power for the frame, but of sensing obstacles, direction, and gravity.

Although it cannot actually see (look again, my dear – what you have taken for eyes are merely evidence of my frivolity, just a shading in the coloration) it can tell where the sun is, and which way is up.  All plants do these things routinely, whether rooted or floating.  Where I have erred in my design, was in my attempt to have the things able to detect obstacles.  I looked for plants with that sensitivity throughout the flora of the Earth.  I tried mimosa pudica, but it is much too shy and retiring to be of service.  Maranta, called prayer plant, got me a little further in my research, but always dropped out of the sky precisely at tea time!

Then I thought of the Drosera and Dionaea muscipula, the sundews and the famed Venus Flytrap.  These clever fellows are quite sensitive to even the smallest object in proximity, but not at all fragile, like the simpering mimosa.  These plants are meat eating.  They grow in soil that is poor in nitrogen, which they need.  They have overcome their difficulties by becoming carnivorous, and obtaining their daily recommended dose of nitrogen from the bodies of their unfortunate victims.

I shall be conducting further research, obviously.  One seldom requires a killer messenger pigeon, after all.  Even before your evidence was presented (in the form of your letter to Claire), my own trials had shown much room for improvement.  One of the birds I tried encountered a hunting falcon, took it down, and ate it.  As surprised as I was, the poor falcon appeared most shocked and aggrieved in its last moments!

You will be receiving new bloomers by conventional mail soon, and please convey my apologies to dear Miss Gamble, and tell her that I have ordered gloves from M. Lagrippe of Paris.

I convey to you, my dearest, all a Mother’s blessing and well wishes!

With Love,
Your Mama

This story is continued with a Letter from Philomena, April

Tags: Academy, carniverous plants, Claire, gas, greenhouse, lamp, light, Philomena, pigeon, steam, steampunk, stories, story, ya, young adult