The turning sky

Some years ago, in an age when I felt younger than I do now, I built myself an observatory. It stands there tonight, some 50 yards up the garden, a dark, domed, lonely place, throwing a circular shadow on to the moonlit grass. I built it in a spirit of optimism and rather, I think, of innocence. Time passes, and my responsibilities to those around me have grown, and with that the place stands empty, a haven for those insects …