How a wheat field can your perspective

So tonight I let my hair out free and walked out in the sunset, to the wheat field. 

I listened to the birds and the sound of the silence when the wind's not blowing.

And I thought about growing up here. How I was glad. 

With all its troubles, with all the things gone wrong, with all the loneliness and the emptiness and things so far away you can't reach them, I am glad. Because so many other things have gone right.

Dawna says change is in the wind, and I can feel it drifting in, closer with each time she says it. Maybe it's the yearning for new places, new beauty, and yet the hanging on to all this beauty I already have, and why should I go searching for new beauty when I have all this here? Sometimes I think I don't enjoy it like I should.

It seems these summer days are slipping past my fingers, just brushing the tips so fast I can't get a hold of them. Seems like I can't catch the breath of this beautiful summer, and already they're yearning for autumn.

Tonight the wheat is mine, and the sunset, and the sky, and it's like what Laura Timmins says to Fisher Bloom, "I've seen these fields in the blackest thunderstorms, and in more sunshine than we have a right to deserve."

And now I'm bound to leave it sooner than I wish, when all I wished was to leave it. 

I thought I deserved much when I only deserved little, and yet, I have a whole wheat field down my lane.

What's your wheat field?

What in your life shows you how much you have despite all the things you don't have?