Every waking hour filled Juliette with anticipation, for she welcomed the long carefree days and nights with her love.  She floated through her parent’s fields of strawberries; the white flowers and the aroma of juicy sweetness, spurring her on. Balmy summer days, when her hands and those of her sisters were a constant stain of pinkish red. The younger ones gobbled and sucked on the fruit, their mouths revealing the blatant evidence.

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Around midday, Juliette walked across the field to a make-shift table in the shade of the old oak tree. She pulled the blue checked cloth from the picnic basket to reveal food, and bottles of homemade lemonade her mother prepared earlier. Each morning her father offloaded a drum of fresh spring water for the pickers to quench their thirsty work.

‘Come on everyone, over here, time for lunch,’ she called to her younger siblings and the team. Tired and hungry, they stepped in line to drink from the tap of refreshing water, then plopped onto the ground to form a circle. Grabbing at the crusty bread, cheese and coleslaw, in silence, they drank the still lemonade in two gulps.

The farm next door belonged to Mr and Mrs Draper. They reared sheep and pigs, but her devotion lay with their only son. Madly in love with Cian, they met after her back-breaking day’s work. Her tight muscles relaxed when his strong hands massaged and released the pain. Sometimes he arrived with hand-tied, red roses, picked from his garden.

They held hands and walked along the coastal path towards the sand dunes and the swaying rushes. On reaching the wide-open beach, they sat by its lapping edge.

She allowed her eyes to wander out to the horizon, and in the distance, the sea and sky met as one. Her toes sank into grains of sand, and love burnt a fire in her heart. She wished these moments would never end.

One evening, she wore her favourite summer dress, adorned with splashes of pink hearts. Once nestled in the rolling dunes, Cian took a bottle of chilled, sparkling wine and unwrapped two glasses from his rucksack. They drank to romance and summer. Cian touched her face and laced his fingers through hers. She dared, hardly breathe.

‘Will you be mine, for all of these summer days and nights, and more?’ He whispered.

Giddy with excitement, without hesitation, Yes, yes, a million times yes.’ She replied.

Cian moved to kiss her rosy lips. Her tousled, honey coloured hair blew in the gentle breeze. Rays of apricot and a golden lit sunset cast dreamy shadows of two people completely in love.

Heady from the smell of the sea and the sweet bubbly wine, Cian scooped her up and kissed her long and deep. He walked into the waves and dropped her gently into the cool water. They swam that night under the stars. Later, wrapped around each other, they lay on the beach until dawn, their love sealed.

Juliette still picks strawberries in the fields by her parent’s house. The heat from the sun warms her back and neck. She watches over her children like a protective mother hen. They skip, and dance and sing, through the fresh crops of berries. They pick and fill wooden troughs and eat far too many. Like them, Juliette is happiest in her strawberry fields, spiked in colours of green, red and white. She inhales the smell of fruit and the salty taste of the sea.

In the reflection of evening light, Cian will come and stand close by her side. He will take her hand in his and, as a family, they will walk. 

Through the sand dunes and rushes, the sun sets along the seashore, her memories of love held tight, forever.