oh what fleeting moments I should capture, oh what memories I should still possess

brown fields

My cell phone camera did interesting things with the sun, and it shows up here as waves of light across the photo. What I see is a brown field and open sky. What I think of is all the stages this land goes through in a year, from this winter brown, to knee-high green and luscious growth, to golden-green stalks of corn that slowly peak and fade into pale sheaths of tan that are cut down and left to winter brown.


Each thing is of like form from everlasting

and comes round again in its cycle.

– Marcus Aurelius


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