She wanted her beauty too soon and must now forfeit it for the moment.
One day, when the Earth was a glorious garden and ruled by a brilliant
sun flower towering above the plants of her domain, Monarch butterfly,
not yet her familiar orange, complained she wished to be large as a
bird with petal wings translucent to the sun, folding with the rain.
Sunflower, taken back by this unusual demand, sought to humble Monarch.
"Henceforth for your imprudence, each one of your race must toil for
your wings. No more shall you enjoy fruits without labour. By daring to
be mighty you will begin existence as a pale, green egg hardly
distinguishable from the lowliest leaf. Moreover, as a reminder of your
insolence, you must pass through four purgatorial stages. The bitterest
bane of your people will be the bread of the milkweed."
"You wish to aggrandise yourself? So be it--you will shed your skin
like a snake and hang upside down in stupor for weeks on end. Only
then, will I allow you to retain your former excellence."
And with that, sunflower drew hard upon her curse and winter formed.
She, too, planted seed-eggs across the face of the earth. Her face lost
its radiance by fall and her petals cried to the ground. Even today,
when people eat of her wealth they devour it with salt. This is in
remembrance that, in cursing Monarch, she, too, felt her own wrath for
salt is more bitter than the bane of the milkweed.