Surprisingly, having dirt beneath one's fingernails was quite a pleasant feeling. Once Anu stated that the hole was a good size, he stopped digging and turned his attention to the pot. The step she explained next seemed to Hemming to be a bit harder, because the well-being of the plant was, for the first time, at stake. Fortunately for him, though, Anu had already excised the lily from the earth, and all her roots were neatly wound into the pot. The easy part was left to him.
Hemming reflected the grin she cast him, and he looked with concentration to the base of the stem as she explained. As the alabaster female held the pot firmly, the male reached his large hands in tentatively, the fingers of his left hand gripping the flower at the lowest place that he could. He pulled it up gently, and a couple times, lowered it down again, feeling as if he was not grasping it in a way that would preserve its perfection. On the third time, having developed an understanding of how the weight would feel, he felt his grip was good and lifted it all the way out of the pot, little clumps of dirt dropping from its spindly roots. As soon as it was possible, he placed his palm on the bottom of what had been in the pot to stabilize it, supporting it gently as it made its trip to the ground.
He placed it in the hole gently, a smile stretched across his face and his eyes narrowed slightly with intent. His hands were pulled away tentatively, and when they were completely free he looked back up to Anu, the smile widening enough for his teeth to shine through. He felt a sense of accomplishment, having learned how to do this. And, of course, the flower was free to spread her roots, unbound by the clay walls of the pot.
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