The Field-Watcher When in the shadows of the passing day A seat is found, asleep in calm Soundness, as activity of the mind Cease, and the slow and wavy dreams Of reality vanish by timeless Art, he who observes the secrets Of the fast-forgotten world finds purpose Insensible to sleep, remnant Of future life. The fullness of the stars Softly infuse the distant sky With rays of obscure light, the horizon Ever holds the dawn in glimmer. Douglas Thornton 2018
October 21st, 2013 The 18th showed the leaf-changing moon full, rising directly in front of the window. It foretold of its appearance with a golden glare upon the horizon for some time before it crept little by little into sight. The comparison of its movement with the terrestrial objects which it glowed against showed how far and how fast it moved, though imperceptible to casual glance, and gave in itself a great and delirious effect to the size of the earth. The 19th was ripe for mushrooms and also stocked up on chestnuts, a savor with which I have recently become enamored, but this year's crop seems to be of meagerness, as had been the blackberries, unless it be my negligence. A flock of cranes came through in the evening and some at rest in the bay, and still more flocks of pigeons fleeing the sound of the hunter's gun, which fills the morning hours. The song-birds are in groups as well, hard to distinguish because of their ever distant and rapid flight. A tr