… it’s the barley field I see.
A golden ocean of barley.
It’s not like the other grain-fields.
Maybe it’s those inward-looking eyes
gone into it so it becomes heaven?
A fall-colored sky, mild,
with no harvesters and no scythes.
Sunday Sayings: An extract of Olav Hauge’s “Barley Field” for this B&W photo of my local Victorian church, amidst fields of ripening barley and colorized for vintage effect in Lightroom
PoetryPix 
Potent extract. If for a day, would like to see our world without the harvesters and scythes, all of them. That’s probably too human-critical, but I can dream.
OK, color, no-color, but wondering about the “sharpness” or maybe it’s just my old eyes.
old eyes suit this as the edit is designed to look like a vintage Victorian postcard when they would colorize B&W for obvious reasons
The contrast of texture and all the shades of grey give this a wonderful depth. It has the stillness of a held breath. (K)
what a marvellous comment Kerfe – so poetic!
That photo is very poetic.
Beautiful share, Laura.
thank you for sharing Roberta!
My pleasure