When we Anglophiles dream about moving to the UK, we have in mind the England of Jane Austen (on a much more modest scale, of course). The reality for the Fout family has been quite different. Our current flat is a series of boxes inside another box that is part of a series of boxes inside a yet bigger box. Most everything is painted brown and white, and everyone's furniture is the same. Mid-August that will change. The Fouts are moving house! Tyndale House where Jason does his work has a few residences which they rent out to members. In addition to being much less boxy, it is a mile closer to church, school, and work; it has a small garden that Alex will be able to play in with minimal supervision; and it is significantly less expensive for about the same amount of space. We are really excited.
But there is one thing we will miss about our current flat. That is the view. We are on the top floor on the far west corner. Our living room has two large picture windows that look out onto lush green fields that stretch to the horizon. We often see hot air balloons in the distance. Restored aeroplanes from the aviation museum at Duxford sometimes fly over. We have a perfect view of Guy Fawke's Day fireworks from the nearby colleges and villages.
One morning in April of last year I woke up and the view out these windows took my breath away. Off in the distance were several vast fields of intense yellow - Fields of Gold. We came to find out that these splashes of yellow occur all over the UK and are rapeseed. As individual plants they are not much to write home about, but a field of rapeseed is just stunning. I pass a couple fields on the way to work and I never tire of them. In fact, one day I took a bike path that went out of my way a bit just so that I could ride through a sea of yellow.
Fields Of Gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold
So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in the fields of gold
We'll walk in the fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
So, Sting is singing about fields of barley, not rapeseed. None the less, when I hear this song I see the fields of gold from my window. The fields stir up in me feelings that are also expressed in the song. Peace and tranquility. Awe and delight. Contentment. I feel that if God brought us to England for the sole purpose of gazing upon this, that would be enough.
(I haven't been able to take a satisfactory photo of the fields myself)
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