And a multitude of angels.
Everything is bursting into bloom, exploding with color and redolent with fragrance, but this unruly stand of ordinary grasses caught my attention today. I walk through it every day without a second glance, but today the sunlight landed at just the right angle and it practically shone.
Just ordinary bromus inermus, these smooth brome grasses are everywhere—along railroad prairies, grasslands, woodland edges, pastures, grassy areas along roads, weedy meadows, little-mowed areas of city parks and waste areas. Common and overlookable.
“Every blade of grass has an angel bending over it whispering "Grow, grow".
The Talmud
If angels are the invisible carriers of Divine will, one of the forces they carry is the urge to grow—to develop, improve, and evolve. Everything yearns to grow. It’s an inherent drive embedded in nature and every single blade of grass is imbued with this longing.
The persistent whisper "Grow, grow" calls to all creation.
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