He knelt on the wet grass and looked down at the silver-plated tray.In the darkness he saw the moon’s face reflected. There, I’ve caught it, he whispered. The spirits of the field did not correct him but smiled quietly and pressed forefingers to lips. His eyes were wide and then they closed and he fell to his side. The spirits smiled at him and at the tray. The next morning it would be in the house again, ready aligned to catch the first rays of the moon as they passed through the trees.