Today I passed by a field in West Limerick.
No ordinary field. This field was my field of dreams. It was here I played as an isolated child in rural Ireland. I was a hero in every game. I played All Ireland hurling finals, football finals, Triple Crowns and athletics.
It was where I milked cows, fed calves, grew vegetables and often ran home with good news from a passing pilgrim.
It was nice to remember, as I drove along, the kindness of the field. The recognition of this field, its patience. I remember its seasons, the wonderful neighbours, the softness and fertility of its soil but above all I would like to thank it for awakening my mind to the sure rhythm of my rural heart.
And no more suitable green canvas to dream in my field of dreams.
The Mindful Farmer