The Tallest Blade

I am not sure if anyone will read this, I am afraid that my story may not be one that will be carried on by the crawlers and I believe it may not be inspiring enough to be preserved by the blades within my yard. Right now, I am the tallest blade. This is the second time I have been the tallest blade, the last time was back in my first green season. Three brownings have passed since then, but right now I have been the tallest blade and retained this status through the past three cuttings of this green season.

To be the tallest blade twice in one’s life is truly an honor and it has caused quite a clamor amongst the yard. All of the excitement, while appreciated, has really shown me how the blades seem to differ fundamentally on what it means to be the tallest blade, or perhaps even, why we are in the yard at all. This in turn has caused me to ask my own questions about what it means to me, and, hence, why I am talking to you, if you are willing to listen.

In my first season, I was a Cuttarian. Like most young blades I believed that the old weed’s tales about how the blades did not belong in the yard and took offense at this. For it was obvious that the Cutter favored us in the yard in spite of how the weeds easily grew taller than us. Since I believed we were favored by Cutter and it was the Cutter’s will that we battle the weeds for root, in my first season when I was tallest blade, I took great pride in showing the weeds that we too could stand tall in the yard.

Alas, after two cuttings, I fell to the Cutter’s blade. This troubled me greatly. I knew that it would happen, but I was not really prepared to be just another blade in the yard again. The older blades tried to make me feel better and told me that it was the Cutter’s will, fate, or even just luck that I had been the tallest blade and that I should only relish that I had been and take comfort in the fact that any one of the blades in yard could have its time as the tallest blade.

But I had been a symbol. I had been the proof that we could grow as tall as the weeds and that the Cutter favored us. Indeed I was the will of the Cutter for the yard to live embodied in the blades to stand against the lore of the weeds and their crazy ideas of “Natural Seed.” In one pass of the Cutter’s blade it was gone; I was just a blade in the yard.

When I refused to be comforted in the “Will of the Cutter,” the old blades called me proud and shunned me as not being grateful for the blessings of the Cutter. The tallest blade that season after me passed four cuttings and grew to seed. Then the Cutter pulled him with his own hand. The Cuttarians rejoiced as the hand and not the Cutter’s blade had taken him. They declared that this was the proof that we are the equal of the weeds and the choosen of Cutter.

This served to trouble me even more. For if it was the will of the Cutter for us to take root in the yard, then why would the Cutter pull the roots of a blade that went to seed? Would not that blade be establishing more blades in the yard? Would not that be establishing the yard? It just made no sense to me.

The blades around me were aware of my discontent; they seemed to grow more and more distant and avoided talking to me. By this time in the greening season, the winds had begun to pick up, many of the old blades started preaching about the coming of the browning season, many of the new blades like myself became very afraid. About this time, I was approached by a Seedarian.

The Seedarians told me how we did not exist by the will of the Cutter. They pointed to the seeds the tall ones had passed outside the yard and the fact that these were taking root as proof, that like the weeds claimed, there was a “Natural Seed.” They went on to say that the weeds were right and that the yard was not our natural home and that we were here only for the pleasure of the Cutter and that the Cutter took pride in and enjoyed the cuttings. The blades in the yard were simply there to amuse the Cutter, but the Cutter was not our planter. No, they claimed, that our seed was a “Natural Seed” and not a creation of the Cutter, which is why the Cutter pulls those who go to seed as punishment. The Cutter does not want us to know that we are a “Natural Seed.” They went on to say it was our purpose to strive to grow to seed so that the wind could carry our seed. Spreading in kind, until our seed eventually finds its way back to it’s true home.

In a sense, this meant that our purpose was opposed to the will of the Cutter, but after seeing the tall one’s seeds take root and as the browning approached and the Cutter fed us less and less, the Seedarian’s ideas began to make sense to me. They said the proof would come in the browning season with sky water, not the Cutter’s water providing us with the root needs through the browning.

That browning, the sky water did come and I knew the Seedarians were correct. I spent the entire next season struggling to grow to seed. I was so focused on my own struggle that greening season, I was not really aware of much else going on in the yard. Each waterfall I would pull as much root needs as I could and strive to grow to seed, only to be struck down again in the cutting.

Now instead of this being the will of the Cutter, I felt that this was a direct assault of the Cutter against me and opposed to my need to seed. Although I was angry at the time in retrospect I think I actually enjoyed the cuttings as they reaffirmed my struggle.

After the twelfth cutting of my second greening season, however, I began to feel tired. I had devoted all of my energy and my effort to trying to seed in spite of Cutter, but I still did not feel like I was living. Only battling to grow. I began to feel disillusioned, could we really defeat the Cutter’s will?

At this time, the winds were coming more frequently. The browning was coming and the Cuttarians were preaching loudly about the coming of the browning and withdrawal of the Cutter. The Seedarians knowingly spoke quietly about the “Natural Seed” being provided for. I had heard all this before and for some reason it was boring me, I was tired.

As much as I wanted to care about it, I knew that this browning would come and it would be followed by a green season, complete with more cuttings. This morose feeling really led me to the line of thought I am expressing to you. As much as I wanted to care about the stories in the yard, they just did not excite me anymore.

Then a strange thing happened, I noticed that I like the wind. I am not sure if it was because, for whatever reason, I did not fear the browning, or I had just never paid attention to the wind itself and only paid attention to what it was supposed to represent. In either case, at the end of the greening season, I felt the wind for what it was and I liked it.

That browning I really just focused what was happening and did not really focus on the greenings of the past, or the greenings to come. When the sky water came, I filled my root needs. When it was not there, I just felt the wind; even the frosts were not as bad that browning for some reason.

Sure enough after some time, greening season was upon the yard again. The Cutter returned and brought the Cutter water, but to be honest I could not tell the difference between it and the sky water regardless of the Seedarians or the Cutterarians, it filled my root needs.

This season, after I learned to appreciate the wind, I really have been focused just on my own growing. I enjoy the water falls regardless of where they come from, I enjoy the winds. I enjoy the sun and I enjoy the play of the blades with one another as they spread their stories. But me, I just grow.

Now, I am the tallest blade once again. I don’t know if I will make it to seed, I am not sure if it matters. I keep being asked about being the tallest blade after this many cuttings and I find that I really wish I had a more dramatic story to tell, or some story I could use to tell you what it means, but I don’t. I just grow. I enjoy growing. As much as I wish there was more I could say, I can’t think of what it would be without being dishonest as to what I really believe. So, while it may not be a catchy story, this is the one I am choosing to share with you in the yard and the crawlers.

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