I know: fields, fields, fields, and more fields.
And coming from an artist that never even thought she’d bring herself to create (much less thoroughly enjoy and thrive on) landscape paintings, I never considered fields to be all that exciting. But, they are quite difficult to not appreciate, especially when they are completely drenched in the yellow of thousands of sunflowers, appear to be a glowing bed of embers under the tuscan sunset, or merely stretch on into infinity all around you, rolling in the wind and putting any sea to shame.
This field is particularly special to me though. Standing at the edge of this sloped field, which was on the edge of an impressive cliff, which was on the edge of the kind Adriatic sea, I got that tickling sensation in my toes for the first time on Italian soil. Running around barefoot all the time, I had experienced many tickling sensations before from all of the Italian critters, but this was something that crescendoed into a beat that vibrated through the entire body. Something without reason, but full of sense.
With Monte Conero ahead on the horizon, the sea splashing below, and the field rolling in front of me, I knew that this place would be special. Fast-forward 16 months: I know that that place is special. And I know that this nook of the world is where I want to be.
So, salute to beauty, fate, and many, many blades of wheat.