Friday, 1 August 2014

Fields of gold. . .

Fields of gold evokes images of memories of the past, sepia-tinted, sun drenched and smelling of the freshness of countryside meadows or the barley fields that you would roll around in.  I have always through musically, Sting a.k.a. Gordon Sumner is one freakishly talented guy.  I'm fascinated with the fact that he plays the bass guitar and sings - at the same time.  Being able to do both of these things at the same time in my opinion is mind blowing, as the bass keeps the rhythm of the song along with the drums, while he sings the melody (complete opposite).  It's like that old game of 'pat yourself on the head with your right hand while rubbing your stomach with your left hand, then swapping'.  (Coordination killer!)

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 fields of gold

When I think about the wind coming from the west, I think about that direction being where the sun sets, that direction that was once wild, so maybe it is from this direction that things go to rest.  I have had a bit of time to think lately about putting things to rest.  Well, I've actually come to the realisation that time for me is organised in a linear movement that is continuous, with no end, until I end. Weird? Yes! Crazy? Who knows!

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 fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

There have probably been times where you have been guilty of this - having made light promises and broken promises.  I think about times in my life where I have made light promises and broken promises too.  In your youth you're all about making promises - those 'pinky promises' with friends that you took seriously because your word was all you had back then before the advent of technology.  You would make promises to meet with your friends at a certain time in a certain place - and you kept to that promise to meet, because you didn't have a mobile phone to text or call them to cancel at the last minute.  How little regard we have for promises.  I guess walking in fields of gold will ensure that you keep those promises, make new ones or at least remember the promises kept that meant so much.

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 . . .

Remember the good times, revisit those beautiful memories as long as you can remember them.
You will see yourself as a child running through those fields of barley.
Because when the sun sets on those fields of barley, they will turn into and forever be. . . fields of gold. . .