The ruby red shines amongst the dense dark green leaves. The soft rich color of a tiny heart shaped berry. Around me I hear the warm summer breeze and birds off in the distance.

Suddenly I pick up the smell of the fresh cut grass and smell of wildflowers. The tiny fruit calls for me. I pick up the delicate heart, feeling the tiny hairs and the oval seeds.

I soon take a bite, unable to wait any longer. The sweet and soothing juice, a small comforting crunch. Swallow. Cool and tasty I wish for more. Helping myself to as many as can fit in my small 5 year old hands.

 
I miss the fragile days where I could roam my backyard and dream it was a rainforest or a faraway land where I am powerful, confident, and loved by all. I miss running to that very strawberry patch and picking a bowl of strawberries for my mother just as a small ‘I love you’. I think we all have a sort of nostalgia for the simpler and happier times.

The day is warm but not too hot. Since eight in the morning I have been out in the fresh and crisp air playing, being a kid. My mother is off weeding in the garden, both of us in our own little worlds. My sister is swinging in the backyard and everyone seems to be at peace. I soon grow hungry and my little legs run to the strawberry patch, the red berries catching my eye even from such a distance.

I stealthily sneak and creep to the small berry patch as to not get scolded by my mother for “...spoiling my dinner”.  Finally, my toes at the edge of the patch. I search and search for a perfect, plump berry. Alas the biggest red berry is spotted and soon in my mouth. I sit with a satisfied smile happy and no longer hungry.