“ . . . at play in the fields of mathematics.”
David W. Hansen
I had searched for them for many years to no avail, when one day, coming up over
the brow of a hill, I saw them - spread out in front of me as far as the eye could see – those
wonderful fields of mathematics, filled to the brim with innumerable flowers of all shapes and sizes,
all colors and kinds, and I rejoiced at their sight, and laughed, and ran amongst them, stumbling in
my haste to see and touch them all.
All day I played in those fields of mathematics and could not get my fill of the beauty and loveliness
of the blooms around me, until late in the afternoon, growing weary of my play, I spied in the
distance towering peaks of ice and snow shining in the rays of the setting sun. Rushing down their slopes were
cascades and torrents of sparkling water which nurtured the fields of mathematics far below,
and I knew that these were the lofty Mountains of Higher Mathematics to whose summits many have
aspired but few have reached.
I shivered as I beheld them in all their magnificence and splendor, and I was glad to be down in
the warmer and more accessible fields of mathematics below. And yet . . . , I wondered if, perhaps,
someday, I might ascend at least part of the way to their sublime peaks.
However, a bird’s sweet song disturbing my musings, my thoughts returned to the fields before me,
and I returned to my play, refreshed by this brief distraction.
Night fast approaching, I realized with sadness that I must return, and gathering a few flowers to take
back with me, I hastened down the path up which I had come.
The years have passed and I’ve grown old, but the memory of that blessed day has not dimmed
one bit, and when I yearn to see those wonderful fields again, I look at and hold
close those few sweet flowers which I brought back with me and am content.
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