Winter had been difficult early on for the islands and even though the snow lay in blankets that refused to melt for the beginning of spring, there eventually seemed to be more patches of brown and green than there were white. Moreover, Zevulun began to take note of the countless wildflower blossoms still curled up, not yet ready to bloom. The Prairie was always breathtakingly beautiful in spring once the flowers bloomed and painted the hills in streaks of purple, yellow, white, pink, and red, but Zevulun felt as if there were significantly more flowers this year.

It was on one of his patrols that he noticed the opposite side of one of the largest hills was blanketed entirely in wildflowers with only a flower or two blooming here or there. From that day he kept a careful eye on the flowers any time he passed the area, checking how many had bloomed and whether it was time for the rest to burst into a myriad of colors. Though he was only guessing, Zevulun had seen enough flower buds so closely grown together that when everything finally opened, he had a feeling the entire mountainside was going to become a myriad of colors with no green or brown to be seen. All they would be able to see were the bright, bold flowers laid out across the sloping ground.

Then, one afternoon, he noticed a few of the buds peeling back, the flower petals wrapped inside and ready to burst free. With an excited smile Zevulun turned for the herd and told them, “The mountainside is going to bloom tomorrow!” Anyone who would listen to him lately had likely caught Zevulun’s excitement, as he could hardly wait to see how beautiful it was going to look. Too, he was excited to show his children - both those a year or older, and the few wobbly-legged newcomers they had amongst their midst. The romantic in him wanted to tuck in close to his ladies as they looked out over all the pretty flowers, almost overwhelming himself with the mixture of their scents.

Zevulun encouraged whoever wished to join him in seeing the bloom to sleep on the opposite side of the hill. In the morning he promised to lead them up the incline and stop them at the wide, flat top where he was sure they could look down and see the superbloom for themselves.

In the morning he excitedly nudged at those who’d agreed to come along, body language almost colt-like, energetic and happy, nothing like the somewhat older stallion he was actually aged to be. Zevulun flicked his tail and tossed his head, picking his knees up high to his chest as he pranced around the herd. They made their way quickly up the hillside as he was too eager to delay it any longer and, when they stopped on the summit, he released a soft gasp of wonder.

He had known it would be beautiful, but he did not realize it would look as gorgeous as it did. He had never seen so many colors grown so tightly together. The beauty of Luthien lay before him and those of his herd who wanted to see it, and he found himself almost overwhelmed by how perfect it was. Year after year the Prairie found new ways to keep making him fall in love with it as his home more and more. His heart no longer yearned for Tinuvel or for the Bay. Luthien was his home.

“Isn’t it amazing?” He asked breathlessly, glancing at whoever was closest to them and smiling, hoping to see the awe and wonder he felt across their face too.

The superbloom scene looks something like this!