We create traditions and memories with each summer and no summer would be complete without a trip to the strawberry fields. With our baskets swaying from our arms we ran into the endless lanes of plush leaves. We could feel their rigid outlines tickle our toes as we walked along. All around us lingered the sweet scent of strawberries. We felt alone and free; the only souls who roamed through these wild meadows.
I love strolling down memory lane and revisiting old posts; it reiterates why I have this space, why I document our days and why I write and photograph. Here are some previous memories of strawberry picking: one, two, and three
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