Birth of a Line

“Where does it start? Muscles tense. One leg a pillar, holding the body upright between the earth and sky. The other a pendulum, swinging from behind. Heel touches down.” (Solnit 3)


Where does it start? Heel touches down, and the blades bow before it. Their tips touch the earth, and they fall into shadow as the foot descends. The sky is not falling; it lowers deliberately, with practiced rhythm. Leaves part in its wake like a crowd for royalty – moving just far enough to make a path, staying close enough to brush against the passing presence. The blades brush up against eachother too, and the sound is a whisper: who’s there? who’s there? The grass gossips.

Some blades are wrested from the earth by the pressure, others merely bent in the instant that the foot travels over them. When it is gone, a few rise again, but most remain bowed, in mourning, or in worship, it is impossible to tell.

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