Thistle's Garden

Thistle was relieved to wake up, finally hearing the rain ease. After endless weeks of relentless downpour, she was smart enough to know it still wasn’t fully stopped. Still, the break in intensity would serve her—and the Glade—well.

She had been waiting for a day like today—a day where she could go out and really assess the damage. At this point in the disaster, one of the most consistent problems was that people’s food stores were starting to dwindle. The Glade had not yet gotten the chance to recover the way it would after a long winter as this spring yielded few crops.

Therefore, today, the task was to forage. Hopefully, the familiar feeling of foraging would take her mind off the destruction she knew she was about to face. As she readied herself in her boots, cloak, and enchantments—a routine that now felt second nature—she couldn’t help but notice how this season had been the most she’d ever dawned these items. They had already begun to look old and weathered, as worn and familiar as childhood heirlooms.

And yet, when she did what she had been doing every day for the last month, her hands faltered once again when reaching for the door. Trembling ever so slightly. She was terrified that, despite everything they had done, it may not have been enough. She pushed away the thought as she pushed open the door.

Facing the Glade felt different these days. Everything felt sodden, down, and storm-sick. The stagnant air felt thick and sticky. And even though the rain had calmed to a mere drizzle, the gray-veined sky—still speckled with storm clouds—gave every indication that this was a fragile truce, not the end of the battle.

What was once her front yard was now an endless pond stretching from her cottage through most of the surrounding areas of the Glade. Passing slowly, she carefully hopped between the raised larger stones and the fallen logs, watching little minnows swim between blades of grass—persistent enough to pierce the flooded pathways.

What was once a thriving community was now a hollowed-out, waterlogged wasteland. Her favorite places now cradled in ruin, giving the illusion of a place torn asunder by time, when the season so far had only lasted no more than a month. It all made her feel so sick. A quiet grief that made her queasy—the biggest pain coming from the areas they tried so desperately to reinforce.

It would have been easier to reinforce when things were unneeding of the extra effort. The thought of that made her sick. In the thick of the storm, those extra efforts didn’t hold—not under so much strain.

By the point she finally reached the community garden, she knew what she’d find—but it still hurt. Still, she stood staring at the remnants of what was her first project when she was appointed a Guardian—her first spark of inspiration.

It started as a simple idea—shared food, shared care. A place of exchange—of food, ideas, and kinship. Favorite foods were always something she loved to learn about the Fae in her neighborhood. The community garden felt as if she and the garden had taken root together. It was her gift—her proof that she was worthy of the title. A joint effort. A child.

Even the strongest roots couldn’t hold back the tide.

She touched the broken garden like a mourner at a grave and whispered, “Oh… sometimes the earth takes back what it was given.”

She had no tears left—only an ache. Sacred, not hollow.

Slowly, like a ritual, she began to remove her rain jacket. Peeled off her waterproof boots. In a fit of rage, she tossed them into the middle of what was once a beautiful, thriving garden. She watched them float sadly away. She stared up at the sky, arms offered wide, and let out the cry she’d been holding in her throat since the start of it all—no words, just pure, unrivaled emotion.

Even the strongest love does not always save the thing you plant it in.

And yet, she was not fully broken. Not yet at least.

Something in her had broken—quietly, but not without grace.

She would wake up, face the rain, and try again.

🍞Forager’s Flatbread🥕🍅

You use what you have to make the most out of any situation.

Recipe:

Recipe Information

🍄 Forager’s Flatbread

Total Time: ~15–20 minutes
Skill Level: Intermediate
Category: Feasts – Main Dishes or Sides

🥗 Dietary Information

✅ Can be made Vegan (with dairy-free butter and cheese)
✅ Can be made Gluten-Free (with GF flatbread)
❌ Contains Dairy (unless swapped)

⚠ Potential Sensitivities

• 🧀 Contains Dairy (feta; can be swapped for vegan cheese)
• 🌾 Contains Gluten (flatbread; use GF option)
• 🧄 Contains Alliums (leeks, garlic)

🌿 Ingredients

• 🌿 1 piece of flatbread (store-bought or homemade) – The base for transformation, grounding and versatile
• 🌿 1–2 tbsp butter (or plant-based) – For richness, nurturing, and connection
• 🌿 2 tbsp pesto – For creativity, balance, and herbal strength
• 🌿 1–2 leeks, chopped – For clarity, healing, and resilience
• 🌿 1 cup mushrooms, sliced – Earthy and comforting, bringing nourishment and wisdom
• 🌿 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved – For joy, brightness, and emotional balance
• 🌿 1 cup bean sprouts – For freshness, growth, and renewal
• 🌿 ¼ cup feta cheese (or vegan alternative) – For richness and comfort, grounding magic

🔪 Instructions

Toast the Flatbread

• Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C).
• Place your flatbread in the oven and toast for about 5 minutes to firm up the base.

Sauté the Aromatics

• While the flatbread is toasting, sauté the mushrooms and leeks in a pan with a little oil or butter until soft and aromatic.

Assemble the Flatbread

• Once the flatbread is toasted, spread a layer of butter and pesto on top.
• Scatter the sautéed mushrooms and leeks evenly across the bread.
• Halve the cherry tomatoes and dot them around the flatbread.
• Sprinkle the bean sprouts over the top.
• Add a generous sprinkling of feta cheese to finish.

Bake & Serve

• Pop the flatbread back into the oven for about 5 minutes, or until the feta has melted and everything smells heavenly.
• Serve warm, garnished with a little extra pesto if desired.

✨ Best Enjoyed…

• On a quiet day when you want to feel connected to nature
• When you need a little grounded nourishment after a long walk in the woods
• At a gathering with friends who appreciate both simplicity and heartiness
• With a glass of fresh lemonade, enjoying the sunshine and good company