On the way to work. Maybe you have one like it. Today it was snowy, wet under an inch of melting wet snow, more coming down steadily. Monday it was bare, first snow falling, bare and cold. Before, it was in a field of fog and mysterious and it has been many things. Flooded for one, earlier in the year. Covered in fresh wheat sprouts in spring, tall green stalks of wheat in the breeze later on, morning sun glittering on dew. Ripe tawny wheat, then busy with the thresher and the guy driving the tractor beside it. Stubble. During the flooding there was a deer that stood in the field every morning. Every day the field is different. It doesn’t ask you what have you done with your life either. It’s just different every day.