Strawberry Fields

Page Farms Berry Patch
This past weekend seemed full of Memorial Day festivities to welcome in summer. We cooked out (twice), and spent a sunny afternoon strawberry picking. Although berry picking is not a typical patriotic activity, the bright red berries and being out in the fields somehow made it seem fitting for Memorial Day. The most vivid memory I have of strawberry picking is from when I was young on what I believe was a class field trip. It’s probably because in my elementary school picking days I was a couple feet closer to the ground, but I had figured berry picking was much easier than it turned out. Finding a normal shaped, bright red, ready to eat berry is like searching for a needle in a haystack. The excitement of finding that ideal strawberry made me feel like a child again for the afternoon, and made me refocus my happiness on the little pleasures in life. 






 (I would like to say this is of Ry picking a berry, but naturally, he’s only taking a photo of one)
(Feeling five again)
(The fruits of our labor, quite literally)

(Homemade strawberry pie)

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