In a quiet valley hidden between low, dreaming hills, there lies a stretch of land the locals simply call the Heartfields. From a distance it looks like something forgotten by the sky - broad swathes of wildflowers woven together in colors so rich that the seasons seem to linger there longer than anywhere else. In spring, the fields awaken in soft pastels; by summer they blaze with crimson poppies, violet lupine, golden buttercups, and clouds of white yarrow that shimmer like fallen stars. Ev...
