Even the ash tree trunks standing on top of the bank at the gardens edge are unable to hide the expanse of rust-stained green from the window of the bedroom he slept in as a boy. From this same window a once pleasant view of fields and trees, farmers on tractors, cows that scattered when the neighbourhood kids played football where they grazed. He sometimes woke early in this boyhood room  to watch the sun rise from behind silent trees silhouetted on the horizon, the sky a warm orange glow. The sunrise seems later these days, it now has to … Continue reading A Field No Longer