“‘Life is not a walk across an open field’ - Russian proverb

Shelf of a field, green, within easy reach, the grass on it not yet high, papered with blue sky through which yellow has grown to make pure green, the surface colour of what the basin of the world contains, attendent field, shelf between sky and sea, fronted with a curtain of printed trees, friable at its edges, the corners of it rounded, answering the sun with heat, shelf on a wall through which from time to time a cuckoo is audible, shelf on which she keeps the invisibe and intangible jaars of her pleasure, field that I have always known, I am lying raised up on one elbow wondering whether in any direction I can see beyond where you stop.  The wire around you is the horizon.”

-John Berger, from the essay “Field” in About Looking

(I’m in South Dakota again. Fields are relevant again.)