Maggie holds a wealth of knowledge at her young age of 9 weeks. She teaches me something new almost every day. Her latest lesson?
How to Enjoy Grass
an essay by Kate, inspired by Maggie the Beagle
Grass is a wonderfully soft thing, a living carpet that passes on its energy. It lies there waiting for you to come experience it and let its energy in.
The grass knows it is meant to be walked in barefoot. Feel it glide between your toes. Lay belly down in it, let it mold to the shape of your body. Prop your chin on your arm and watch it quiver in the breeze. Put your nose right in it and take a deep breath. Inhale the grassy goodness. Take a bite and taste it if you’re feeling curious. Then spit it out and try another.
Find a sunny spot and let the grass reflect the sun on your skin. Let it embrace you and warm you like an electric blanket. Then roll over to a shady spot. Enjoy the cool dampness of the grass and its soil below. Roll over onto your back and tilt your head back as far as you can. See the grass as your sky and the sky as your ground. Raise your feet above your head and try to walk on the clouds.
Listen to the grass. The grass sings in a whisper, like the air that runs through a cello. It tinkles with the windchimes. It catches and changes the subtle tones of the breeze.
Note the fluffy flowers the grass makes. The wheaty little heads hold seeds of more grass. They tremble with the slightest movement, vibrating in the force of your breath.
Search the grass for tiny camouflaged creatures. See that transparent green bug blend right in. Watch him climb to the peak of a blade and catch some sun. You would never see him if you didn’t come down to Beagle nose level and roll around in a bed of soft grass.
Every blade of grass
has its angel that bends over it
and whispers, “Grow, grow.”
-The Talmud
