golden fields of summer

Cornfields, Golden Fields, Falster, Denmark

These golden, swaying fields have been a part of my Danish summers, since I can remember. As you can probably sense, there is some nostalgic feelings whirling in the air.

As Summer draws to a close, with one last salute in form of an Indian Summer, I get to feel the first chill rushing through my skin and it reminds all over again why this summery season is so special. There is the wonderful feeling of warmth on ones skin, but also the lightness and easiness, the endless flowers, bumblebees working relentlessly, birds singing, the taste of strawberries and the golden colours of the fields and the skies at dusk. I could go on with the list of what makes a Summer, but I will stick to my golden fields for now.

How many times have you stood and listened to a cornfield, noticing how it dances in the wind, resembling a calm sea of gold?

The endless golden fields, swaying in the soft wind, making an orchestra of small rattling sounds, makes my heart warm up. It reminds me of a lot of periods in my life.

When I was a child, my parents and I would leave the heat in Portugal and spend 3 months to Denmark. We’d either live in Bornholm or Møn, which are full of cornfields. I’d bike by them on sunny days, I’d walk through them and play by them.

Slowly and steadily, they became a cherished part of my solestice memories.

As I grew older, the sight of a cornfield became the symbol of a country, where I knew the language, where part of my family lived, but also where I longed to live longer than 3 months at a time. I dreamt about feeling the snow on my face and seeing all the half-timbered houses there was.

However, there was also a bitterness in the fields turning gold and the harvest season getting ready, because it meant going back to Portugal, with an unfinished feeling of not being there when Autumn arrived.

Today, I am lucky to say that, every weekend this Summer, I got to watch these fields grow and I saw them sway, turn gold and, nevertheless, I got to listen to them making the sounds of the end of a season. I am lucky to be here to welcome Autumn too.

Let the new season come along, with all it’s beautiful rusty colours. I can’t wait. signature

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