The season sky

Hesiod and his brother Perses grew up on a farm below Mount Helicon, in a village Hesiod later called bad in winter, hard in summer, and never good. When their father died, the two of them split the land, and Perses walked away with the larger share. Hesiod said the lords who judged it had been paid off.

Some time later, Perses came back to his brother's door, wanting more.

Hesiod said no. He had given enough. But he didn't send his brother away with nothing. What he gave him instead was a poem: everything he knew about working the land, season by season, so that Perses could feed himself.

There were no calendars on the wall, so the poem keeps looking up. It teaches Perses to read the year off the sky.

When Arcturus rises at dusk, sixty days after the shortest day, prune the vines before the swallow comes back. When strong Orion first shows before dawn, winnow the grain on a floor where the wind blows. When Orion stands high and the dawn finds Arcturus, cut the grapes and bring them home. And when Orion sets, and you hear the cranes calling high in the clouds, the same cry every year, it's time to plough.

You can hear the older brother all through it, exasperated and careful at once. He couldn't do the work for Perses. What he could do was show him where to look, so he would never again have to ask anyone what time of year it was. We never find out whether Perses listened.

Orion going down wasn't the end of the farmer's year. It was a change of work. And by the end of winter, Arcturus was rising at dusk again.