journeying, but I too am journeying, and to the sea, only my 
sea is shoreless and remote, and toward it I make haste, 
though oftener | fear with tears than 
with laughter. Yours is the better way, 
laughing onward toward the sea’ | 
crossed a group of shrubs unknown 
to me, whose leaves were of such 
redness as to stand like a dull flame 
in the midst of the gay greenery of 
the grasses that hedged them in. 
And the slough grasses are always 
beautiful to my eyes. I never yet 
have tired of them, and here they 
grew in eager luxuriance, and in some 
parts were of such brilliant green as if 
they had barely wakened from . 
a refreshing winter sleep, and 
with all freshness on them, like a 
newly awakened child, looked at you 
in sweet surprise. The grasses, grown 
taller, had a sedateness and sense of dig- 
nity such as | have sometimes seen in 
women. Stately they were and drooping 
—all bowed as soldiers who had stood 
guard all night and were sleeping in the 
day. The wind came and caressed 
them, but they woke not or barely 
nodded as if saying, ‘Let me sleep, 
let me—’’ and the sleepy voice fell 
asleep. They were secret-keeping like 
marsh grasses by the sea. I love this 
waving green when winds drowse or 
flurry by, and the grass, somnolent yet 
fluent, answered in a dream to this 
fond caress, and I feared the winds might 
disturb their rest; and the slumber was on 
them when the wind was gone. The 
crowning glory of the walk was the blue flags 
135 BLUE FLAGS 
