One Blade of Grass

I’m sitting in the grass by my apartment as the sun sets.  Looking deeply into the grass, I see this one tall blade: 


It’s just a blade of grass–nothing special.  Then I recall Walt Whitman’s answer to the child’s question, “What is the grass?”   He writes,

". . . I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?
 
I begin to wonder again.  I bury myself in the grass and spy 
the tiniest cricket.   I zoom in and take a picture 
before he hops away.  The grass and the insect 
do, like Whitman claims, lead me to contemplate the Creator.  
 




Living with flair means looking at the blades of grass. 


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Journal:  When was the last time you sat in the grass and looked around?  

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