The fields that I pass through on my daily walk are now full of deep-green wild grasses -- things are no longer matted and tangled and grey. A small item amid the news of the world, but one that bears attending to.
Consider the Grass Growing
Consider the grass growing
As it grew last year and the year before,
Cool about the ankles like summer rivers
When we walked on a May evening through the meadows
To watch the mare that was going to foal.
Patrick Kavanagh, Selected Poems (1996). Kavanagh wrote the poem in 1943.