Academic journal article TriQuarterly

The Meadow

Academic journal article TriQuarterly

The Meadow

Article excerpt

When he returned from the meadow he said that all the high grasses, coming almost to his shoulders, seemed to be dead and yet were also like wheat--brown and yellow with a kind of weaving at the crest--and so, too, could be something that might be gathered. Then he began to tell me about the game all the children had decided to play, how difficult it had been, for some were wild rabbits and others young foxes, though they seemed alike there in the luster cast by the brown-red sun. That day there was no wind, at least not at first, and so he explained that at the start he could see just what was happening: if he could sense some motion in the grass, and yet no wind stirred, he could know "there was some form of life." The teachers told about the tunnels where the mice would spend November. Another boy had found the caterpillar's carapace. But he was unsure of the word: "was that it? …

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