Grass became much more interesting today. Some of it was actually legumes and dying flowers. As I zoomed in, the remnants of a flowering prairie dying to pass on it’s seeds, came alive.
reaches for the sun
It is interesting that humans have given a name to every plant, every blade of grass, every insect that flies by or bug that crawls across this prairie. It is even more interesting that I want to know their names. I want to make sure I get their name correct.
Somehow knowing their names makes me feel connected to them. Intimate. “Hello, Sawtooth Sunflower, I’m Kim. It’s nice to meet you.”
Sawtooth Sunflower, you stand tall above the others grasses reaching for the sun. Your blooms have lost their petals and your seeds will soon fall to the earth. Next spring, will you be the first to grow? Or will you give your shorter prairie mates a headstart?
Who do you offer refuge to in your stocks with opposite leaves, two per node? Who do you feed your nectar to in your abundant summer blooms? It’s late in autumn. A white butterfly flies by but doesn’t land. You have nothing left to offer her.
Sawtooth Sunflower, you don’t seem to cluster with your kind. Spread out, you mingle among the other grasses. Do you enjoy living among the many species of prairie grasses and flowers here? Do you need each other to survive?
I stopped and noticed the prairie grass today. This overgrown field I would have once just drove by without a second thought. The prairie, so diverse, so full of life even when it is dying in the late autumn.
Exactly!