During our trip to Iowa this time around we made it to the Field of Dreams movie site in Dyersville. Tour bus loads of baseball teams, families on picnic blankets, and old friends playing a round of catch all flock to this site made famous by Hollywood.
Although it was the first time I felt the green velvet of left field between my toes like Shoeless Joe this place has had a special meaning to me for some time.
To warm myself up for our slow sizzling days in Iowa I have been reading the book Shoeless Joe, upon which the film Field of Dreams was based. We played catch in the outfield as occasionally the ball would skip past us and disappear into the corn. WP Kinsella does a far better job of describing the simple magic of an Iowa cornfield than I ever could.
“The fading sun was a rich orange; the shadows of the tall light standards reached across the field like long black arms. Yards away, the mysterious green and gold corn rustled like delicate guests in conversation.”
Leaving Iowa this afternoon I reflected back on our trip as though I was a school-child writing a report about “what I did this summer.”
I watched a 4th of July parade pass by the front of the house while a flag snapped above us in the wind. I strolled the banks of the Mississippi and climbed up to watch boats dance in its flow from the bluffs above. And well, I walked down the dusty streets of John’s hometown to buy a bottle of tequila from the grocery store so the family could make margaritas with dinner.
Through all of these experiences, John would lean in to me and say, “this is my Iowa,” and I’m pretty thankful that he’s let me into his world and his family to explore this wonderful place.