I’ve been waiting for this all year…
I love, love, love this time of year around here. And while California may have its palm trees, Nebraska has its corn, Michigan has its lakes, but we have our strawberry fields.
I am always fascinated by this bizarre little corner of our community. In the 30 minute drive from our house to the beach, you’ll pass large suburbs, schools, a dairy farm, local produce stands, and strawberry fields. And then you’ll hit the ocean. It’s a strangely wonderful combination of sweet smelling strawberry juice and salty sea air. We haven’t quite made it to the beach yet, but the strawberry fields are about 15 pounds lighter after our visit.
We donned our pickin’ boots and hit the fields with our buckets. It’s amazing how much sweeter and juicier fresh strawberries taste after sitting on the vine in the warm morning sun. I would seriously consider bathing in fresh picked berries.
I’m off to make some jam!