My 9 year old nephew found these wild strawberries around my grandmother's house. He brought me one (brought his sister one, too).
Ironically, I was reading an article in the paper about strawberries. This berry was different, though. It was bright, grassy, tart and amazing; it reminded me of wild raspberries. Nothing like the cardboardy strawberries you get in stores, or even like the horticultured local strawberries (which are huge and sweet). Baby Girl loves them--we picked some more today. Nature has some good ideas, people.
BTW when my nephew saw me photographing my strawberry, he looked at me all puzzled. I asked him if he minded if I put a picture on my blog. "Uh, it's just a strawberry. I really don't care." Which is doubly funny because he's not at all a snotty kid, just really happy go lucky and a little in his own world. But I think he thinks his aunt is a bit batty.
This is his berry stained hand just before he ran out to pick more. And contemplate my lunacy.