A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I
receive them the same.
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. (Walt Whitman)
This week I have been enjoying the Lurie Grass Garden in the heart of the city. In the middle of all of those grasses there was a large patch of fall blooming anemones, just like the ones I had in my garden in Ann Arbor. Living here, reducing our possessions and simultaneously, our footprint, is teaching me that I don’t necessarily need to own something to take pleasure in it. (click all photos to enlarge).
It turned cold over night as predicted but the winds haven’t really picked up yet to an impressive level- when they do, there’s a photo request for “wind.” And the Lyric Opera is still in the wings. Also, that little expectant sweet snip, Mrs. S, tagged me for a meme about where we live- one where you short answer about the best/worst features of your home town. I’m hoping she’ll deliver and get distracted shortly. But it did make me think about something I struggle with here in Chicago (beyond boxes and sparrows). A philosophical/value/world view sort of dilemma. So, I’m working on that.
In the meantime, I’m taking three wonderful days off with Rich. This is a big treat for us; between move and work we haven’t had enough time to
fight with gay abandon, have make-up sex, just relax and be close. Today we’re flying to St. Louis for one of the last Chihuly Nights at the Missouri Botanical Gardens. I’ve never been to St. Louis so tomorrow he will show me the city where he has his other family, works diligently so much of the time. We’ll stay at the Westin- no big deal for him but for me? Hotel soap!! Except the TSA has taken all the pleasure out of that now, haven’t they?
On Saturday morning early, I signed up for a special photographer’s hour that is limited to 25 and allows tripods. Pictures! Some of my favorite bloggers are such good photographers that they do great work with much older (Roxanne) or non-digital (FC) cameras. I’m lusting after one of those new image stabilizing telephoto lens for my digital but the price will have to drop first. What do you use?
Sweet husband, soaring art glass, beautiful gardens, hotel soap- what more could a woman possibly want?