FIELD NOTES 01
The First Fireflies of Summer FIELD & STORY FARM
The First Fireflies of Summer FIELD & STORY FARM
Summer announces itself quietly here. First in the lengthening light, then in the warmth that settles over the fields after sunset. And finally; almost without warning, the fireflies return.
I stood at the edge of the lower field and watched tine first points of light appear near the fence, low in the grass. Then a few more, scattered and steady. Within minutes, the meadow was alive with small, slow conversations.
Out here, seasons aren’t marked on a calendar. They reveal themselves in small, faithful moments like these.
The first lights appeared near the lower fence.
Some evenings ask for nothing more than attention.
The farm keeps time in ways a calendar never could.
Fireflies do not rush. They rise when the light is right, their rhythm older than clocks.
Out here, the fields do not perform. They simply live. Our only job is to nonce.
CONTINUE
READING
