a lot of the things i love most are on the edges or in the in-betweens. the first edge of spring when winter is in the air but the palest green haze of bursting buds is visible among the branches of the trees. the grays of november between fall and true winter. what i love about these cattail stems is how precariously poised they are between a stiffness that would not be graceful and a looseness that would not give them form. as they are, they submit to the wind, bending and straightening, but always insisting on their shape, in a suspension that is never quite rest.
winter cattail leaves