I started my day in an open field that had been left to grow wild. At this time of year (January) it consists of pudding-like mounds of grass that undulate as you walk or Tramp through them. There are no ticks in January so it's safe for the dog to ramble with me.

The sun was rising, illuminating with a touchable low light the tall thin strings of wheat-like grass that swayed and rocked in an indeterminate breeze that I trusted through their movement. 

This gentle rocking is a sacred sign. A film of rippling grass appeared on my phone summoned by the universal HQ to tell me that my dad had passed. The sadness had musical energy and was not dead but very much alive.

I needed to sit, so I did. Amidst the swathes of grass and clear sky, I meditated and found a semblance of peace with an awareness of being present in the midst. (please see my video clip)

I later reflected on the striking seaside plantings I had seen on the north Kent coast, not on the beach but in people's front gardens.  I made a short video of my findings which will be included anon.

Ornamental grass ranges in size form and character.

The RHS has a helpful horticultural guide. My interest is the simple formation of single-species planting. I like to see a bank of the same thing enjoined in a swaying legion of colour texture and sound.

My grass meditation which I teach to reduce stress and help us engage in our spiritual 'home ' is enriched by the internal nourishment of grass a  plant that beckons us towards a place of peace within.

Planted in Granite styled concrete Pennisetum has a formation akin to muscular ballet dancers floating and swaying with the elemental melody of the January sea breese.