It's higher than my head!"
"Notice how it sweeps low with every breath of wind. Now,
hon, you can look at that grass and say to yourself, 'My
goodness, the wind sure is blowing.' Or, you can look at it and
think, 'Ah, that waving grass has something to say.'"
"Ma'am?"
"High grass, in its way, is saying 'All creation knows its
Maker. Even wild weeds in the wind bow down, pay homage.'"
I listened. Not a sound. I looked up at the broom sedge again
and listened harder. Then I looked up at Aunt Vic's ears to see
if they were shaped the same as mine. They were. Still, I
couldn't hear the grass and weeds saying a word!
Aunt Vic reached into her satchel and took out a white, puffy
handkerchief that had tatting lace all the way around it and
wiped her nose.
I wished I could be a big lady and have a hand purse and
carry handkerchiefs with frilly lace.
We came to the house where Old Man Hawk and his wife lived.
We didn't see them, but Mister Hawk's mule Nellie was standing in
the barn lot and his coon dogs were on the front porch.
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