Story

Dreams of Gold. My eyes gradually grew weary while we zigzagged across the countryside. We had nothing but time and the open road between us and our next destination. The miles passed slowly as the dotted lines began to blur. My mind started to wander of possibilities, a new life, a simpler life, a life of labor and love, a life of working in the field, becoming one with the land, my land, a place to grow my roots.

The gentle hum of wind brushed against the van while I stared longingly at the fields of golden wheat that rippled along the road like waves upon the shore. I could get used to this. Who knows what time will bring. Maybe one day I can call a field my own, where I know the animals by name and they know me by the miles of trail by my side. When I am tired and sore from a day in the mountains, this is where my mind goes. To a future filled with dreams of gold, golden fields and a place to call my own.