This former farmstead on the outskirts of Middlebury bears a rich harvest: the kind of richness that was once far more typical of Vermont pasturelands. Dozens of flowers, both wild and runaways from past gardens, mingle with the grasses; pollen and nectar gatherers, including bees, wasps, and butterflies, abound; birds make themselves known through their calls; and at night in the summer, fireflies materialize as a kind of crowning glory. Some day this will all be "developed," but I wanted to document the fields' idyllic transitional stage. So often what is best comes as a temporary phase, even in the Vermont landscape, which has so far managed to avoid the worst forms of commercial exploitation.