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To love Nocturnus is to love the swamps. In my mind’s-eye, there aren’t many landscapes that so embody “wild” as a swamp: dark, waterlogged, chirring with insects and frogsong—or, in northern wintry mode, a frozen-over backwater of tussocks, deadfall, and horned owls. Should you doubt the healthful stimulus a swamp provides the human spirit, just dip into Henry Thoreau's writings. “I enter a swamp as a sacred place—a sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength—the marrow of Nature” (“Walking”). Or, from the same essay: “Yes, though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human art contrived, or else of a Dismal Swamp, I should certainly decide for the swamp.” Here, here! So, without further non-GoH ado, here is my Swamp Outpost Redux. Some of you old timers may remember my swamp outpost from a few years back. This one fills pretty much the same purpose: respite for the weary swamp travelers, a place to re-supply and a staging point for Resistance forces operating throughout the Moruth Swamps. With lighting and smoke from a half-broken fog machine (it finally bit the dust on me!): Thanks for looking!
