Grasses

So still at heart,
They respond like water
To the slightest breeze,
Rippling as one body,

And, as one mind,
Bend continually
To listen:
The perfect confidants,

They keep to themselves,
A web of trails and nests,
Burrows and hidden entrances—
Do not reveal

Those camouflaged in stillness
From the circling hawks,
Or crouched and breathless
At the passing of the fox.
Heather Allen

Poor Himself put his back out last night taking baked potatoes out of the oven - a dangerous task.  He's been moving around very gingerly today as I had to do the hunter-gathering, not a job I am brilliant as as I get distracted.  It was absolutely perishing in Bantry - blowing a hoolie and around 13c, tourists in shorts were looking dazed. So were the locals.
Later it warmed up a little and became muggy but I went in search of some bog pimpernels for Miranda - they were all closed up, and who can blame them! The grasses however, were looking fantastic and blowing all over the place - a little bit of extra fartnarkling for Abstract Thursday.
I'm off to Buxton tomorrow and may or may not have time to do a blip before I go. This is for the Sacred Waters conference which looks pretty full-on.  I am appearing briefly on Tuesday morning! Hopefully Himself will be ok to drive back after going to the airport, and hopefully my brother, who I'm staying with the first night, will be feeling better as he was struck down with something unpleasant a few days ago. Covid seems to be rampant and Aer Lingus is on strike. I'm going with Ryanair - the last time we went with them they cancelled the flight without telling us.  Yes there is a bit of trepidation! If I don't see you tomorrow it will be in a week, I'm not taking a computer but will be taking the water!