Rolling in the grass has got to be one of the most time-honoured traditions of early childhood.
The fresh chlorophyll-and-ozone scent, the resilient, cushiony prickle of texture, the damp, elemental hint of the earth between the blades.
Few things represent the uncomplicated joys of childhood better.
To roll in the grass is to abandon oneself completely to the pure act of being.
It is to give over all thought, all hesitation, all doubt, all purpose - at least for the moment in time.
It is to give in, let go, and just exist.
For Q, there are several "best places" in her world for rolling in the grass.
But her BEST-best place is the sloping concert lawn at the botanic gardens.
Here (at least on days when there is not an actual concert in progress) she can really let go, of herself, of her obligations, of her problems, of gravity, of direction.
|in stella mccartney, club oceanus and le vestiaire de jeanne|
And, sometimes, she can just pause for a moment, sit, and contemplate the vastness (or the minuteness) of her existence.
What: the Denver Botanic Gardens
Where: 1007 York Street btwn 9th-11th Ave
Don't miss: the Mordecai Children's Garden across the street, 9am-5pm