How We Learn About Meadows

On Sunday's walk I passed an informational display telling me what a meadow is, why a meadow is important. How sad that we have to learn about meadows from a sign! How much better to learn about them from the burrs in your socks, the poison ivy on your ankles and the sunburn on your shoulders.

I grew up in savannah land — bald, barely treed land where meadows ruled. I learned to treasure the shady tree line around the edges of fields and the majesty of the lone burr oak. I learned first-hand  the loud racket of meadows — cicadas chanting, grasshoppers buzzing — but also the quiet heart at their center and how their beauty is best set off by the presence of a grazing cow or thoroughbred.

 But mostly, I learned my way around meadows by tramping through them, by looking out at them from fence rows, or by harvesting them, collecting goldenrod, Queen Anne's Lace and Joe Pye Weed. So when I came across this meadow sign on Sunday, I snapped a shot — but I made sure that there was a lot of meadow in the picture too.