Acrylic on canvas 36×48

It was a dream my father told me he had on a visit with him. He was at MD Anderson battling AML. He described walking through a field, the grass was tall, and gold, felt like silk, the air was clear, with a beautiful sweet breeze. 13 years after he passed away, I was driving on a back road, and passed a field. I remembered his dream,then painted it when I arrived home, just remembering his softly spoken words in my mind and the quick glance of the field I had passed.