I was thinking of all those folks whose only desire in this world is to capture and reset the Arena. My mind drifted to the natural parallel of planting seeds on a fine spring day and working hard through the summer to reap a bountiful harvest as the leaves turn and the air gains its first bite of fall.
It fell easy on my mind to know that we had these faithful simple people doing what most would consider drudgery, an essentially mindless task but no online simulation could possibly be complete with these salt of the earth folks, the very essence of what it means to be a Massively Multiplayer Online Gamer. The ones who make it all worthwhile, closing fields for an hour, plowing the skies in many motored behemoths.
I couldn't help but reckon back to the great Don Walser and his classic farming song.
Here's to you, field farmers. May your altitude be low, your rebuild time endless and radar nonexistent!