Fields of old glory

Here we are. At the end of this day of wandering. Among all this landscapes we saw, I think this one is the most peaceful. I wouldn’t have come if you hadn’t insisted, and I know now that I would have regretted it. This journey through the country is one of the most beautiful I had for a while.
It was just like now: it seems to be a dream. A wonderful one. The sun is going to fall behind the horizon and the sky conjures up with a flaming torch, moving and orange. The field at our feet is slowly waving under the wind, and I’m taken aback by such a beauty.
We are holding our hands automatically for the wheat looks as if it was taunting them. We are running in what seems to be golden water, playing and laughing as children. But then the whole field is blazing up: it looks to merge with the sky itself. Everything is gold and red.
So we are sitting on the top of the hill, at the edge of the field, and were laying down, gazing at all this. It seems like the world would collapse but there’s neither destruction nor horror. With such magnificence we would enjoy seeing the apocalypse several times…
Yes, here we are, hand in hand. So far of the city and all its noises, stress, business, and money. The time when men were living in harmony with nature is far away beyond the horizon burning. But this scenery, this sunset on the fields around us reminds us of this old time.

Fields of old glory…