Friday, June 18, 2010

Ice Cream

Wild strawberries are ripe in the meadow. They take forever to pick, forever to clean as they are tiny, the size of a small fingernail, but the burst of flavour in each tiny berry is amazing. And it is lovely to pick them, listening to the waves, the birds, crouched in the long waving grasses, with the sun hot on my shoulders and the scent of the wildflowers and the sweet berries like incense.
Valentine investigated my empty bowl, and took one taste. After licking her little chops for five minutes she decided that it was NOT gravy and thus not worth her time. So and I, however, we have decided that it is Very Good. I might have some right now!

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