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  • I'm afraid it's not just a wheat field.

    Out here on the Iowa plains, there seems to be no end; just a vast golden sea that fills your eyes, all you can see, until stopping abruptly at that close-to-invisible line in the infinite distance, an impossible, unreachable end to everything in sight. In the Iowa plains, the end of all there is to see is not broken by figures of a city, of mountains, or trees. Out here, that horizon that births the sun every dawn is unbroken and smooth, following the infinite curve of the earth. So flat and vast, open, naked to to the huge powdery sky with its puffs of cotton candy.

    Here, sky and land are equal, balanced with each other as if pinned on some invisible axis. This infinite space and balance of solid, gold & blue color is a magnet. Standing here, A tiny, insignificant human sandwiched between the great slices of sky and land, I can feel like I am not myself, not in my body, but everything I see, blown away by the wind, the clouds skidding across the sky.

    I am tempted to lie down in the grasses, the breeze playing a whistling tune in my ears and rippling the never ending wheat like ripples on a pond, an ocean.I feel tempted to lie down in the tall gold stems, swallowed by the sky, and watch the busy clouds, forever changing into elephants, teapots, cats, trees...molded by the breath of the wind.

    I could run anywhere and end up nowhere, out here. The road far to the southeast is a tiny pencil line in the distance, up close, an asphalt gash in the rippling golden sea, a rogue in that perfect balance of land and sky. But, why would I want to leave this paradise? The temptations are all to escape from reality, peacfully stranded in the simple but vast balance of the golden land and magnifieed sky, so close; the only sounds to be heard in the rain, rustling grasses, wind, and the occasional hawk. What I've always wanted, to be free and weightless, letting go of myself to all the elements around me and not be constrained by one body and the rules of society.

    If I had a choice, I would dump my burden to the breeze and gaze at the clouds forever. What would make it the least bit better, so completly perfect, though, would be to have someone to hold hands with, to roll with in the golden grasses, to laugh with at the bunny in the clouds.
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