The moon outside was cold and unfeeling, despite the warm glow that bathed over the fields. Earlier in the evening, I’d felt off and despite needing to do a few more things for the field, I had taken a break. Outis, ever-attentive, had come out to the field to seek me when I didn’t return home. He’s always so kind. Once the pair had gotten to their shared home, the moon had begun to rise. Outis had called it a “harvest moon,” mentioning its significanc...