The sunset was muted - the setting sun hidden in cloud, and it wasn't until we were returning from our walk and nearing the curve of the hill near home that I turned and saw the way the last light hit upon the tall grasses lining the roadside. Until recently I hadn't noticed the enormous variation in grasses and their seeds. The ones the dying light caught upon looked soft, as if they were sheafs of tiny, delicate, furred animals about to take flight. The ephemeral nature of grass seeds, and the way they catch the light is becoming an increasing fascination.
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