Leaves of Grass

I’m still celebrating the fact that the sun filters through into our garden after the winter months of being in the ‘twilight zone’, so once again I head straight out, camera in hand. 

There’s been a heavy frost, and the grass sparkles with ice crystals and dew-drops of meltwater. Beautiful. I crouch down on the decking, eye-level with the lawn, and focus. It’s a Lilliputian experience, the grass now huge.

I’m reminded of Laurie Lee’s first memory  when he recalls being set down from the carrier’s cart in the middle of the June grass which ‘towered all around me, each blade tattooed with tiger-skins of sunlight’. But this is March, and tiger-skins have been replaced with a glitter-ball of light. Individual blades meld in a sequin-sparkle, leaving the tallest to stand proud bearing watery globes. 

‘Leaves of Grass’ is Walt Whitman’s collection of poetry celebrating his philosophy of life and humanity - a favourite during my university days back in the 70’s. Each leaf promises its own distinct beauty, multiple leaves, a symbol of democracy, - a beautiful whole composed of individual parts. 

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.
Walt  Whitman Leaves of grass 

Thanks to Cathy1947 for hosting Tiny Tuesday.