Even at this ungodly hour, I couldn't help but be charmed by these grasses at the train station. The station is right next to a wetlands and the grasses grow up on the edge in the marshy soil. All summer long the red-winged blackbirds flit (yes, they flit) through the grasses and perch on the tips. The birds are asleep now, the wind rustles through the grass and the train is just starting to pull into the station. I gotta run!