The Yellow Fields
The hills are crowned with mustard gold,
A cloth of sunlight on the wold,
A golden mist, a golden tide,
That sweeps in beauty far and wide.
It laughs along the valley deep,
Where quiet vines in shadows sleep,
And climbs the slopes in billows free,
A rolling sea, a golden sea.
It flutters where the soft winds blow,
Like elfin torches all aglow,
And whispers to the sky’s clear blue,
A dream of springtime, fresh and new.
By Ina Coolbrith
This moment, captured in the spring of 2019, is a cherished memory from before we left Mission Viejo, our beloved hometown of 15 years.
Ina Coolbrith, California’s first poet laureate, wrote The Yellow Fields in 1891, capturing the essence of the state’s golden landscape in verse.
