Hills of Grass
At the top of the property there was a pond with a pond house and a floating dock. From there, the town below, where they had just returned from exploring, could be seen. The town, in a valley, was named after a mountain range that was not nearby. From there, you could see the hills on the other side of the town. Further down the hill, there was a large, converted barn and the house where they were staying.
In the grass on the hill, one of them was lying along the incline by the pond.
One of them sat on a swing on the deck of the pond house, slowly swinging.
One of them sat on the floating dock, creating small ripples in the cool water.
One of them, higher up the hill in the shade, observed it all. In the near silence, time seemed to stand still. The view could have been a month ago or a hundred years ago.
~~~
Around the coffee table, in front of the fireplace that was being put to good use, the four of them sat. Music played. There was a discussion about stretching a word out in song beyond its original syllabic intent. Books that were found earlier lay spread out next to the food and wine on the low, long table. There was a book with the same name as the town but was named after something else. There was a book about joinery; there was a book about cocktails and their created spaces; there was a book on misperceived truths. Leaves of Grass was among them. They would read from it.
One of them picked up the book and read the first poem of the book aloud, “ONE’S-SELF I SING’. After, another of them inferred that they would be reading the poems in the order they were in the book. No parameters of the reading of the poems were set, a third noted. This is when the conversation shifted to parameters and then to definitions. One of them noted that even the decision to have no parameters could be seen as a way of setting parameters. Even loosely defined, parameters existed. And then they talked about fluid definitions. An example given:
A man sits at a bar with a drink, waiting for his companion to arrive. “How long have you been waiting?” The companion asks when they meet.
The man holds up his thumb and forefinger to the glass, one at the top of the glass and one at the level of the drink within the glass. “This long,” he replies.
Another example:
Holding up a cork from a bottle on the coffee table, it is suggested that the cork is to become a length of time. The cork equals the time it takes to drink a bottle.
Then, another of them picked up the book and read the second poem of the book, “AS I PONDER’D IN SILENCE”.
One of them chooses not to read aloud at all.
One of them thumbs through the book, choosing a poem that was not the third poem but which the title was unclear; begins to read, and then laughing uncontrollably, stops. A second attempt with the same result. Finally, placed the book down on the coffee table and walked outside to look up at the stars.
Inside, another selection of music was chosen.
~~~
In the morning, one of them picked up a book from the coffee table and took it to the breakfast nook to pair with coffee and the view of the valley below. It was the book with the same name as the town. In the forward of this book was a quote.
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
— Walt Whitman, “Song of Myself” (1855)
