Summer is succulent. The air is moist and warm, the soil is deeply scented, the trees heavy with leaf-weight and morning dew. As I gaze out my kitchen window, the day lilies peep above the railing, nodding in the breeze and the clouds skid across the cyrulian skies.

I'm in heaven.

Last Friday I played hooky and headed with my daughter and a dear friend (visiting from home for a 5 day whirlwind tour) to the strawberry fields of Whitefield, Maine.

We drove the long way - by way of various of my old haunts (ponds, towns, houses, stores) between here and there. It was a trip 'down memory lane' for me, and a way for two of my dearest to see and hear about some of my adventures in Maine over the last (almost) 20 years. We drove through a rainstorm, the end of a rainbow and arrived at the farm store in a blaze of peach colored storm-light.

After seeing multiple posts from friends on social media ("just spent $50 on strawberries #gulp"; "$75 well spent" "most expensive (and hopefully yummiest) jam purchase")...we decided to go small and pick only 5 punnets.

We picked, and munched, and sorted, and basked in the sun bursts. We laughed, took selfies, and munched some more. There were scores of other families there, stocking up. I fantasized alternately that we were squirrels, or hunter gatherers, or even subsistence farmers (living on berries! What a life!).

We gathered together the haul and escaped for $20 - and felt like thrift shop bargain hunters as we munched our way through 1/5 of the bounty all the ride home (the short way).

The whole day felt like a sneaky gift, full of the juiciest elements of life. Succulent, sweet, tender, joyous... and a memory to treasure.