Field and Sundown Light

It's that time of year to be sure. The first harvest is in progress, and bales of hay are everywhere in the eastern Ontario highlands. Deer and wild turkeys graze quiet pastures at dawn, and shadows stretch long skinny fingers across farm fields at the end of the day. The air is filled with cricket songs, and it is not unusual to see turkeys standing watch on the crests of great round bales as their kin feed in the green stuff below.

The shadows slanting across pastures at sunset grow longer as our days grow shorter. As if to compensate for slowly waning daylight, northern sunsets become more intense: skies in deep purple and incandescent gold, perfect molten light and technicolor clouds. The evening sun flames amazement as it drops below the horizon.

This is probably my favorite place on planet earth. I stand by the fence in a corner of the western field, and my camera and recording lens can scarcely take in all the riches on offer. Sunrises and sunsets dazzle these old eyes, and every rising moon is pure platinum. All the treasures of the cosmos are dancing over my head, and wonder of wonders, they are spilled out at my feet too. As above, so below.