Those days were hot, endless, full of orange squash and jam sandwiches and fun. The morning I wrote this piece it followed a bright full moon and a heavy frost. On numerous occasions over the years I have watched the white-tipped blades of grass turn into lawns of dew and damp rotting dark brown oak leaves. When I walked across the grass earlier this morning, after the freezing air had caught my breath, the grass crisped beneath my feet. I looked back and saw my size nine prints in the frost chasing me. This was all far removed from those … Continue reading Grass – Part 2