Fields of Gold

Listening to Eva Cassidy's song Fields of Gold brings back memories of the days spent with my children in the meadows surrounding Skelbieh. I loved watching the field ants as they followed each other in unison carrying their humble offerings on their back. The harsh sun and parched summer months had left their toll on the sun baked soil. The golden stalks of wheat were ready for harvest after the sleepy winter months had passed into a romantic and wistful spring then into summer when the townsfolk would be in a hive of activity busily reaping the rewards from their ripened crops.

The watermelon truck would park in the street in the shade under our veranda and Fawaz would haggle with the driver for a cheaper price per kilo. The workers would be having a siesta on top of the melons and once a price was agreed upon the children and Fawaz would collect the fruit from the truck and carry the twenty or so watermelons up two flights of stairs.

We bought boxes of apricots, peaches, mulberries, cherries and stone fruits that were grown in the nearby mountains at the local fruit and vegetable market. In summer we ate boiled, white, salted cheese made from sheep's milk with watermelon slices for breakfast.

The local theme park would open its gates in the evening and the children would enjoy a ferris ride or a drive in a dodgem car. Young men would be arm in arm strolling down the main thoroughfares perusing the scene for a glimpse of their sweethearts.

At open air summer cafes one could buy ice cream and soda with a home made jelly like sweet called kesharf. If one wasn't in the mood for an evening stroll, then they were probably sitting outside and enjoying the company of friends and family. The cooler Mediterranean nights brought much relief from the searing heat of the day.

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