Grassland #53760
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A Grass Journey. A story by Jónas Hallgrímsson.
Printed as a manuscript.
"Good sister! do you see what I see?"
It was one evening in the spring, as we were coming back from the ski jump, that I said this to my sister, fifteen years old, and clapped my hands together with joy.
"I don't know what you mean, boy!" -- "What am I supposed to see?" she said shortly afterwards, turning around, because I had fallen back and was silently looking down at the ground.
"It's been raining worms in the shed, but that's not what I meant."
"You are a child of clarity," said my sister, laughing, "and yet you come up with something new; we will talk about your worms later; but what else was I supposed to see?"
I was only accustomed to her leading me when I was younger; but now I was thirteen years old and thought I was too old for it; nevertheless I found it the greatest amusement, and sometimes I earned it by all sorts of jokes and friendly banter when we were walking somewhere.
"Lead me a little," I said, taking her hand, "or you won't see what I'm pointing at -- you can see the mountain above us, now look."
"No, I don't see the mountain, my dear cousin! Wasn't that nothing but the mountain?"
"And do you see the blue cones that tumble down from Brättuskeid; that's after the rain earlier; the streams have all grown and some are peat-red. How do you like the mountain now?"
"Not at all," said my sister, "it's beautiful and starting to get summery; but that's how it looks every day; you'll have to show me something more."
"I'm trying to pull you a little bit on the best way; do you see the sedges up there on Brättuskeid to the south? They're a beautiful pink; do you remember how they look in the dry?"
I said this last thing so civilly and with such a wise expression that it was obvious from everything that I thought I had said something remarkable. My sister looked at the rinds for a moment, and I saw how she was overcome with emotion.
"You are the greatest treasure," she said then, "and the best cousin I have -- it's all grass, it's a menace of blessed grass!"
Printed as a manuscript.
"Good sister! do you see what I see?"
It was one evening in the spring, as we were coming back from the ski jump, that I said this to my sister, fifteen years old, and clapped my hands together with joy.
"I don't know what you mean, boy!" -- "What am I supposed to see?" she said shortly afterwards, turning around, because I had fallen back and was silently looking down at the ground.
"It's been raining worms in the shed, but that's not what I meant."
"You are a child of clarity," said my sister, laughing, "and yet you come up with something new; we will talk about your worms later; but what else was I supposed to see?"
I was only accustomed to her leading me when I was younger; but now I was thirteen years old and thought I was too old for it; nevertheless I found it the greatest amusement, and sometimes I earned it by all sorts of jokes and friendly banter when we were walking somewhere.
"Lead me a little," I said, taking her hand, "or you won't see what I'm pointing at -- you can see the mountain above us, now look."
"No, I don't see the mountain, my dear cousin! Wasn't that nothing but the mountain?"
"And do you see the blue cones that tumble down from Brättuskeid; that's after the rain earlier; the streams have all grown and some are peat-red. How do you like the mountain now?"
"Not at all," said my sister, "it's beautiful and starting to get summery; but that's how it looks every day; you'll have to show me something more."
"I'm trying to pull you a little bit on the best way; do you see the sedges up there on Brättuskeid to the south? They're a beautiful pink; do you remember how they look in the dry?"
I said this last thing so civilly and with such a wise expression that it was obvious from everything that I thought I had said something remarkable. My sister looked at the rinds for a moment, and I saw how she was overcome with emotion.
"You are the greatest treasure," she said then, "and the best cousin I have -- it's all grass, it's a menace of blessed grass!"