This time of year, fountaingrass that has sprung up in every untended corner begins going to seed. The seed heads have a graceful, carefree air about them--I'm sure I must have seen a poster or two of them when I was a teen. (I think the theme of sunshine on a carefree meadow was typical of that era.) They remind me of an afternoon in the country, maybe on Grandpa's farm.
I have some in a vase on my tray ceiling, some at the corner of the garden,
and some volunteered in the strawberry jar, so I brought it around to the front sidewalk where it can be enjoyed.