thursday

I've been thinking a lot about grass recently; about the bare patch of earth prepared in my garden, waiting for spring and for grass seed, but already green with wild grass; its resilience and persistence.

I've been looking out for green shoots whilst wrapped up in my coat and scarf and boots, and thinking about laying back in my overgrown lawn, seed heads tickling...


Rustling is not quite the word to describe the feeling of laying back amongst the grass, and whisper is too soft for the sound it makes in my ears. It's been a while since I've had sunshine on my skin.


And I've been thinking about these pictures taken last summer, how it felt to lay there, and I've been cutting blade after blade of grass with my scalpel.