I spy joy in tall red grass

Tall red grass

Coming in to work this morning I noticed, maybe for the first time, a planter full of tall red grass encircled by bright yellow marigolds.

The sky is now blue and the air warm, but this morning was grey and crisp and a cool wind tossed the air back and forth like a kitten with a ball. It was a brief and refreshing reminder that fall is on its way.

In the breezy early hours the tall, red, wheat-like grass danced around so elegantly it called for an audience. It’s Monday, however, and most urbanites are hurrying off to begin their work week, too busy too stop and watch the long lean leaves sway to a silent song.

 I was unusually early this morning, and in no hurry at all. So the red grass had an adoring audience of one. As I stood admiring the beauty and grace before me I felt so fortunate. I quietly thanked the plants for their loveliness, the city planner for the container, the landscaper for the combination of colors and heights, and coordinated set of circumstances that brought me to that moment in time.

 Life truly is grand.