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Somehow it gets passed on

I just saw two teenagers, dressed in the fashions of the day, walking along a country road. Both of them were holding stems of grass between their thumbs, their hands clasped over each other. The stem of grass is held taut and when you blow acts as a reed- making a squawking sound, or sometimes quite a sonorous note. I was taught to do this by my father and he learnt from his. These kids must have learned it from theirs, or an older relative. It cheered me immensely to see them thus engaged, grinning and making weird noises as they walked.

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