The impersonal, unaffiliated eye breaks the grip of madness on the field. 
Small birds know and are emboldened. They call to one another: “Owl is blind! Owl is blind!”

Jubilation expands tiny feathered breasts.
A reckless few swoop upon the philosopher. The few gather into a swarm. The swarm escalates to a mob. The mob churns. A dark and storm-tossed cloud encloses the philosopher within its mass of rapid, waving, winged particles.