Awake on a March Night

[rejectomorph]

After the moon set, scattered clouds caught its light and drifted like diaphanous paper lanterns on the dark lake of sky. Later, they vanished, drifting east to shroud the distant peaks of the mountains, but the air here remained heavy with moisture, and the night was redolent of dewy grass. Those who neither stay up late, nor wake before dawn, miss some of the most delightful scents. Perhaps darkness, in depriving the eye of details, brings us to engage the other senses more strongly. Thus, in these hours, scent has greater presence, and smallest sounds awake the ear, and skin feels the slightest stir of air that glides over it. In a mild season, be out in the hours before dawn, if you would know the full range of your senses.