Another memory: of moving through a field of still-green wheat with my hands skimming the soft surface of an imaginary sea. The rippling effect created by the wind sweeping across the field could hold my attention for an age – elbows leaning on gate or fence. The american poet James L Dickey nailed it in his lovely 1977 inaugural poem ‘The Strength of Fields’.
Now I watch fields from trains and roadsides but photography has offered a chance to renew a more intimate connection.
