Wilson on Erie

The sea of grasses stretched out to the real sea, invisible beyond the line of curving trees, but sensed with sound, and smell, and taste.  The grasses mimicked the sea waves without the finishing roar on rocks, crushing them into sand.  A gull cried above the hissing rushes and circled away.  Lena watched him disappear.  She watched the grasses undulate.  She stood as still as one of the grave statues behind her.