The stubble of the abandoned field's last barley crop lies on the ground, while the earthworks of a new development appear on the distant right. Now, in the inbetweenness, the weeds are having a field day, the dancing dock and thistle weaving a scene of ungroomed and unexpected beauty. This is the field directly behind our house and my studio looking south across the hidden city to the distant Wicklow Mountains and Sugar Loaf. Sarah is walking through fields of reminiscence that are 'part of no earthly estate', her own field day.

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