A Cat Called Timothy
I think that I must be fundamentally unobservant, for the majority of the time. Then, just now and again, I look in the right place by accident. I suppose it comes down to living in the jungle and having to keep an eye out for things hoping to eat you. At least, I’ve always understood, that that’s what Eve O’Lution had in mind when she put our vision systems together. You can see fine, as long as you don’t look at anything, and then, when something clicks as your brain maps what the eyes report, against the news the brain expected to hear, it sends a message back pointing out the difference and asking for a full investigation. In the jungle you probably just shouted “Duck!” or “Run!” These days, you probably just say, “Oh. Wow!” Luckily, I’ve managed to avoid things looking for a quick snack, so far – but I did, suddenly, come across this grass on a roadside verge that I’ve walked past often.
Google thinks that this is Meadow Cat’s Tails – he’s probably right. It’s often called Timothy. It probably toddled over to America with the early settlers and made itself at home. It was noticed in New Hampshire by a John Hurd and naturally, being a naturalist, he named it Hurd Grass. Unfortunately for him, a few years later, Timothy Hansen began promoting and selling it, so, to his customers, it became Timothy Grass.
I hope John Hurd wasn’t too discouraged.