Though the calendar may show October, I hope a summer warmth still lingers for you.
“Taste of Summer Love” reminds us that regardless of seasons, tales of love live on forever.
Taste of Summer Love
Every waking hour fills Juliette with anticipation. She welcomes the carefree summer days and nights. Floating through her parent’s fields; an aroma of sweet strawberries spurs her on while her fingers remain a stain of pinkish red. Her younger sisters gobble the fruit, and their red mouths reveal the blatant evidence.
Each morning her father offloads a drum of spring water in the field for the seasonal pickers to quench their thirsty work. At midday, on her mother’s orders, Juliette carries two baskets, and walks across the field to a makeshift table resting in the shade of an oak tree.
She pulls blue checked napkins off the picnic baskets and lays out boxes of food. That follows with her placing bottles of homemade lemonade on the table. From a nearby shed, she grabs crockery, cutlery, and glassware, stacks them on a tray, and carries everything to the eating area.
“Time for lunch,” she calls to the leader, noting a look of weariness on the workforce’s faces. They traipse towards the wide leafed tree. Taking a plate and lining up, they serve themselves crusty bread, local cheese, and coleslaw. In silence, they sit on the ground to form a circle. Juliette pours lemonade into glasses and hands them out. They smile, nodding in thanks.
The farm next door belongs to a Mr and Mrs Draper. They rear prize sheep and pigs. Juliette’s love is their son, Cian. They meet every day, after back-breaking hours of work. Her muscles relax when his strong hands massage and release the aches. Sometimes Cian presents her with a posy of roses.
They hold hands and walk the coastal path, through the sand dunes and swaying rushes. By the wide-open space of the beach, Juliette allows her eyes to wander to the horizon. In the distance, the sea and sky seem to meet. She flips off her dusty old trainers and sinks her toes into the sand. Pure love burns in her heart. She makes a wish. “May these moments with Cian never end.”
One evening, wearing her favourite summer dress, adorned with splashes of pink hearts, they both nestle in the dunes. She watches Cian take a bottle of sparkling wine resting in a chiller pack and carefully he unwraps two glasses from his rucksack. They toast to romance and summer, and he laces his fingers through hers. “Will you be mine for these summer days and autumn nights?” he whispers.
Giddy with excitement, “Yes, yes, a million times, yes,” she replies.
He kisses her rosy lips. Her tousled, honey-hued hair dances in the gentle breeze. Rays of an apricot setting sun paint romantic shadows across two people.
Heady from the sweet bubbly wine, Cian scoops her up ventures into the waves, and places her into the seawater. They swim underneath a canopy of stars. Later, wrapped in towels and in each other’s arms, they lie on the beach until first light.
Fifteen years Later
Juliette still harvests strawberries in the fields by her childhood home. She feels the heat from the warm sun soothing her back and neck, while watching her children like a protective mother hen. They skip, dance, and sing through the rich crops of berries. Eagerly, picking and filling wooden troughs, they indulge in far too many. Like her children, Juliette enjoys the last harvest of the season, soaking up the spiked colours of green, red, and white. She inhales the mix of heady fruit and the salty tang of the sea.
In this warm autumn light, she recalls times with Cian. She feels his presence by her side. Clasping her hand, they walk again by the seashore. Through the sand dunes and rushes, the sun sets. Memories of their love, regardless of seasons, hold tightly forever.
