Touching grass

Is it silly? Is it profound?

“Grasshopper” (1935), M.C. Escher

Sunday morning, it occurred that I hadn’t taken a day off in three weeks.

I say “occurred,” but really it was the body that it occurred to. I felt torpor and fatigue. My legs ached. The idea of sitting in a chair at a desk one more time made my bones groan—so, I packed a tote bag, made coffee, and set out.

I’m lucky to l…