Take time for little things like this: to see a thin parenthesis of moon, fast rising, tilted down, sprinkling silver on the town. Heat lightning zipping up the sky in summer storms. Wild geese that fly and cry their journey down a night of windy leaves also in flight. Sunset kindling on the sea its spreading fire. A symphony - a barcarolle - of crickets when the hour and season's late. And then (again) to see the moon, in size so full it has to rest, to rise.