There’s something about finding a single wild strawberry in autumn, ripe for eating. It’s a late bloomer, a tortoise, a valiant effort, a Rocky, an old college try, a small miracle. My mouth waters, tasting red, sweet, sunshine. I carry it protectively in my hand for almost an hour, my palm damp in the out-of-season heat. When I give it away, I can taste gift.
Thanks for the share!
Nancy.R
And i can taste the gift of it.
Made it the best strawberry of the whole season, even if it did go down so fast you didn’t even see it happen.