We left concrete and steel for land, dark skies, and the promise of traditional ways of living. Within a year, towers rose from cornfields. Fertile ground was surrendered to infrastructure. The night filled with blinking red lights.

Rural places are being consumed under the banner of progress. Agricultural land shrinks. Culture erodes. What was once living becomes expendable.

Moonflower is not decorative. He is a witness. He remembers what was taken.