One of the greatest baseball movies of all time, isn’t really, truly, a baseball movie. Make no mistake, it is a movie, and baseball plays a prominent role in the movie, but the movie isn’t “about” baseball. Is any movie really “about” the thing on the poster (aliens, a happy couple, a monster, cowboys, etc)? Movies are just modern ways of storytelling, and stories are never about the characters and settings and events, they are always about the concepts, questions, ideas, fears, doubts, and struggles that are common to human beings. Stories are just the vehicles for these major themes. So yes, Field of Dreams is a beautiful and enchanting baseball movie — for those in my generation and above, baseball is often a little boy’s first true love — but it’s not really about baseball.
If you aren’t familiar with the story — you should stop reading this now and go watch the movie — it tells the story of a down on his luck, close to bankrupt midwest farmer named Ray Kinsella who hears a voice that tells him “If you build it, he will come.” The “it” is a baseball field in the middle of the cornfield and the “he” initially refers to the disgraced by the “Black Sox Scandal” one time hero “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, but ultimately refers to a younger, hope filled version of Ray’s father. The story explores themes of family, forgiveness, and the pursuit of dreams, often linked to baseball and the past. The film uses the metaphor of building a baseball field in a cornfield to illustrate the journey of healing and reconciliation with one's past, particularly relationships with fathers. It emphasizes the importance of believing in the impossible and finding meaning in the present by confronting regrets and making amends with loved ones. By the end of the film, healing has taken place, and Ray’s investment/leap of faith, pays off, as a seemingly unending line of cars stretching to the horizon make their way to his field of dreams.
For us, there was no still, small voice, no inspirational vision, but there was a deep knowing with our hearts that we should build our own little version of a field of dreams. This ever evolving garden space is about so much more than flowers and food, it has become a sort of Axis Mundi for us; the center of our world, a place where heaven and earth meet and things old and new find themselves bursting forth from the conscience as magically as the green shoots breaking through the soil from what appear on the surface to be lifeless seeds. Every day I spend in this garden sends a message and teaches a lesson. There are the obvious and expected — lessons learned from the never-ending invasion of weeds, the devastating impact pests that devour the vegetation faster than we can defend it — but then there are those we never anticipated. I have learned — to borrow and slightly alter the famous line from the movie — if you build it, they will come.
So many of my days and nights have started and ended with the thrill of new and unexpected residents to our field of dreams. First it was the arrival of the birds. Depending on the time of year, the garden is a popular hangout for hummingbirds, mockingbirds, purple martins, and goldfinches. Each species has its own distinct personality and brilliant markings, but they all serve to elevate the vibrance and beauty that is the garden. Previously I mentioned the destructive pests that invade from time to time, but not all the insects are problematic. We love the birds, and the bees, and the butterflies that call this plot of land home. Due to the oppressive heat of Deep South summers, I often spend my time in the garden very early in the morning, so early in fact that the bees haven’t woken up yet. Many a morning my search for ready to harvest squash disturbs bees that have fallen asleep inside the squash blooms. As I unintentionally disturb them from their slumber I like to picture them grumbling and muttering at me in the form of some very intense buzzing. Later in the day is when you will find the butterflies. I never cease to be amazed at the sheer number and diverse variety of species of butterflies that flitter and flutter as you walk through the rows of flowers. It was in this garden that I saw — to the best of my recollection — my first baby grasshopper; dozens of them in fact, all clustering together on a Zinnia leaf. In recent days, we’ve been host to some shockingly large dragon flies — which I’ve seldom seen in my life — and despite it being July, June bugs, which I honestly didn’t even know if they still existed. So many of my childhood summers were spent catching June bugs, tying a thread to a leg and holding it while they flew around the yard as if it were a dog on a leash. Though I haven’t seen one — until recently — in forty years, I have learned that they are big fans of my okra plants. My philosophy thus far has been, as long as you just grab a little bite to eat and don't consume my okra plants altogether, you are welcome to a snack.
Our biosphere is not all bugs; there are plenty of animals arriving too. It’s not uncommon to disturb a frog, especially since this unusually wet Summer has turned the garden into a swamp several times. Although they don’t necessarily come into the garden — likely because of the aggressively barking dog that partially stands guard — we get regular visits from a skunk, armadillos, a ground hog, deer and fawns, and most recently mama hen turkeys with their brood of baby chicks. It was most likely due to a trash bag being left outside rather than the existence of the garden, as recently as last night we were visited by a rather large possum. While all of the animals have been greatly welcomed guests, by far the stars of the show have been the little family of bunnies that became temporary residents of the garden. On three separate occasions this year we have stumbled across a nest with three little bunnies, helping me better understand why the phrase “multiplying like rabbits” is a thing.
I’m not sure I can explain the theological significance of the scripture, “So the Lord God formed from the fertile land all the wild animals and all the birds in the sky and brought them to the human to see what he would name them.” (Genesis 2:19), but I feel a connection to it. Life draws more life. Creation leads to more creation, fruitfulness, multiplying. I believe in the world of mathematics this is referred to as 'exponential growth' and in finance its 'compounding interest.' In the spiritual realm, this is called 'blessed.' It’s not just them that come to the garden, it’s Him too. “When the cool evening breezes were blowing, the man and his wife heard the LORD God walking about in the garden.” (Genesis 3:8). My advice to you, dear reader — if you build it, He will come.
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