Resting in the Fields

I was living out of an old van.  Most of the time I kept it parked in an open wheat field, and in the evenings I would sit with the doors open and let the breeze blow through as I listened to my programs on a little TV that I had set up on some wooden crates.  I had to listen to the shows instead of watching them because the picture tube was blown out on the TV.  Somehow it was better that way.  There was a drama that was set in a hospital that I especially liked.  I would sit back with my eyes half closed, seeing the scenes in my head and getting a glimpse between my fluttering eyelids of the golden waves of evening light rustling out there in the wheat with each passing breeze.  My friend would come by sometimes with a few cans of food to cook over the fire after the sun went down, and he would find me there in the back of the van, smiling and about to doze off.