Grasses

This has been a great year for grasses, both in Yachats and in Portland. Most people take them for granted. They mow them down, they call them weeds, they never even see them for the elegant structures they are. Sue loves to study and draw them, and she has let the grasses grow this year, both in her back yard in Portland and in the meadow in Yachats. They harbor and feed insects and birds. She watches the grasses waving in the light, different from each other but difficult to identify because there are so many. For her birthday I gave her a Field Guide with marvelous photographs, each grass against a black background. Delicate or knobby, close to the earth in clumps or as tall as she is, on long stems. Red, blonde, brunette, black-tipped, and silver. So much to love.

I will report more on Portland and the protests and the fascists tomorrow. It has been wonderful to be close to the earth and the sea and to replenish our energies for the work that lies ahead. Hint: it's not over. It has hardly begun.