After many years away from my hometown, I returned to this wheat field that was about to be expropriated.
Grandpa said that when the wheat is ripe, it must be cut, and when people grow old, they must leave. This is all natural.
But the sound of the wind passing through the ears of wheat has not changed, and the temperature of the land has not changed.
Some things last longer than change.
This is a story about return and farewell, guarding and letting go.
The wheat field cannot speak, but it remembers everyone who walks by.
Purpose: Through the changes of the four seasons in the wheat fields, it shows the persistence and growth in the local memory and the deep bond between people and the land.