What am I?

Q. What am I? 
A. I have absolutely no blooming idea. 
None. 
Things that were once very true - daily certainties that could be relied upon to remain true - are no longer true, and the words from the mahabharata resonate deeply. "I see it now - the world is swiftly passing".

Some things are still certain though, like the reassuring hum from the M6 as I stand in this accustomed spot, in this very field that has provided the repetition of sureness of it's rotating crops, it's recurrent scents, and the same cool green tones familiar from childhood, year upon year. While these things remain constants (for now), the question of what I am still remains to be answered. In the mean time (while I wait to discover even a tiny hint of the resolution to this puzzle), I'll let the grasses and the rain and the scents and the clouds and the crops and the mud and the ground and the hum and the buzz and the glow and the mist and the sky do the talking.