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 wk in fields of gold
From another age here is another verse from Jean Ingelow (1820 - 1897) which shows us the timeless pleasure to be had from the summer countryside.
The cushat's cry for me.
the lovely laughter of the wind-swayed wheat,
The easy slope of yonder pastoral hill.
The sedgy brook whereby the Red Kine meet
And wade, and drink their fill.