Soundtrack to this episode Text of poem: Bird Watcher It returns to the same nest. The watcher lies beneath spring brushwood to await its coming– at watch so long he dreams himself becoming less than himself and more, the landscape’s eyes. Though far beyond his eyes, beyond the range of field-glasses, he knows it breaks no bonds: its instinct to his knowledge corresponds, riding the current of the season’s change. What is there in a small bird’s blood that learns to pl...