Walking back from feeding the chickens yesterday, I ran into Datura. She had wandered away from the herd with her sister Lillyvale, breaching the electric line in an area weakened by tall grass, no doubt. I stopped to admire her. Isn't she beautiful? Edmund and Garth chased them back in a few hours later, which was easily done because they couldn't resist the companionship offered within their old confines.
Tall grass has a clinginess that cut grass lacks. It folds around my boots, clutching and then releasing. The bedstraw tangles and confuses my steps. Cut grass is not so jealous. It has been chastened, but will return stronger with less competition, we hope.