Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The windblown wheat field is a nest of restless energy. Scenes
like this must have overwhelmed Vincent with their incredible
beauty—too much, too fast, with no release. The sky is stormy and
dark blue, almost nighttime, barely lit by two suns boiling through
the deep ocean of blue. The road starts nowhere, leads nowhere,
disappearing into the burning wheat field. Above all of this swirl-
ing beauty fly the crows, the dark ghosts that had hovered over his
life since the cemetery in Nuenen.
