From the grass beneath my toes to the distant islands of tangled marsh weeds, the drone of summer bugs rang around me. But even amid that noise, the music of the temple easily cut through. Like the tight pluck of fiddle strings, the sweeping thrum of a bass line, or the staccato jab of piano keys, dozens of distinct birdcalls came together in harmony. Along the sandy shoreline came the sound of a harmonica. It took me a moment to realize it was an instrument and not birdsong. The temple's Bard was resting in the shallow water, adding his own song to the temple's music. Beside him, his Blue jay perched atop the Bard's extravagant mask, braying along. All afternoon, variations on this set played on. I woke when the sky had begun to bruise purple. - Butchko Halme, The Lakeside Almanac Taivast ( Tie-Vast ) temples are aviaries where local and migrating birds come and go, roosting in the upper rafters and dovecotes or nesting on the straw floor among the many statues. The exte...