jordan pulse -

​By Atef Abu Hajar
​Between the golden ears of wheat and the chants of harvesters, the most beautiful rural stories were born, and the "Harvesters' Lantern" remained a witness to an unforgettable era.
​In the past, summer brought a warmth that could only be cooled by a gentle breeze sneaking over the plains, causing the golden ears of wheat to tremble beneath it like small sails preparing to navigate toward a season of bounty. Hidden within those stalks was a quiet world—a skylark's nest, a Turkmen bride's nest, or a partridge taking shelter beneath the threads of wheat.
​Across the plains of Batna, Um Zaytouna, Zghaib, and the western slopes of As-Salt (Maghareeb As-Salt), an unforgettable scene unfolded: the tranquility of the land, the gold of the wheat stalks, the whisper of the breeze, and the lights of the "Harvesters' Lanterns" glistening among the wheat like stars descended at night to accompany the farmers in a season that remains vivid in memory.
​There, among the plots, hills, and fields, the story began anew each year with the rising summer heat and the onset of the harvest. Families gathered at dawn—men, women, and youths—preparing for a season that was not merely labor, but a social event cementing human ties to the land and embodying the values of cooperation and community assistance (Awna) for which rural communities were known.
​Work began early in the morning after preparing the harvest tools: the sickle (manjal), the weeding scythe (hashousha), the protective glove (kalousha), the pitchfork (sha'oub), and the wooden winnowing fork (midthra) used later to separate grain from chaff.
​The threshing floor (baydar) had its own special rituals. If it was a dirt floor within the field, the ground was leveled, cleared of stones, sprinkled with straw and water, and rolled over with a heavy stone cylinder until hardened. If it was rocky, it was meticulously swept and sprayed with water in preparation for threshing.
​Then the harvest commenced as sickles rang out through the golden stalks, accompanied by the chanting of harvesters whose folk songs lightened the burden of work and added joy to the day, with famous verses echoing across the fields:
​"O my sickle, O my sickle..."
​These chants served as emblems of affection and collective work, echoing the spirit of communal solidarity (Faz'a) that made the harvest season a celebration shared by all.
​The wheat stalks were gathered into small bundles (shemal), stacked into sheaves (ghamour), and loaded onto wooden carts in the journey (rajd) to the threshing floor where threshing began. There, the threshing sledge rotated behind the tractor to crush the ears of wheat, after which the winnowing fork separated grain from straw, sending chaff flying in the dawn or afternoon breeze. The grain was packed into red-striped sacks, while the straw was gathered into large canvas bags (shulfan) to be transported to town houses.
​Meanwhile, grandmothers and mothers gathered straw to craft traditional woven trays (tibaq), baskets (qaba'), and storage containers (jaunat)—handcrafted heritage pieces that combined daily utility with rural women's creativity, preserving the memory of the place.
​Night brought another story...
​When motion subsided, sickles rested, and moonlight bathed the fields, the soft lights of the "Harvesters' Lanterns" began to glow—tiny fireflies shimmering among the wheat stalks like delicate lanterns, bestowing a special magic upon the plains and leaving an everlasting image in the memory.
​In the past, the harvest was not merely a season for gathering wheat; it was a season of love, solidarity, and joy—a time when people united in shared toil and shared hope. The land brought them together just as the wheat stalks gathered their grains, and after a full year of patience, the wheat rewarded them with abundance and blessing.
​Those days were not just memories, but bright pages from the history of the Jordanian countryside that deserve to be retold to future generations. They recount the story of humanity and the land, labor and hope, and a homeland that grew within every stalk of wheat.
​That era has passed, but the fragrance of wheat, the chants of harvesters, and the light of the "Harvesters' Lantern" still dwell in memory, bearing witness to days when humanity was closer to the earth, and the earth was closer to the heart.
​Source: Rum Online News Agency