Strawberry Fields

The weekend was tiring. My throat began to itch Friday night and the rest of the days were spent fatigued with a minor head cold. My body was achy and I took feverish naps. Shay had to work on Saturday and as proud as I am of him, he works too much. It's one of his most attractive qualities; his work ethic. With most of our weekend lost, we spent Sunday recovering. Irritated by tired eyes and sore muscles, the weekend ended too soon.

He's my best friend, you know? Someone who knows how much value can go into a simple car ride somewhere nice. We were both quiet and sleepy through our time and when plans to go to the beach seemed too distant and a drive to our favorite walk seemed too long, we found ourselves at our old berry picking farm. We'd gone here season's past and picked blackberries straight from the vine. We spent hours watching the billy goats and enjoyed it in the summertime. As we passed the farm this car ride, we saw a new patch was readily grown and we parked my car and headed down the endless lines.

Strawberries, bright red and full grown. He was tired, I knew but he had fun and was excited finding the ripest berries that grew. Huge sunny pinks and fat blobs of red lined the shallow green and we made moments, a whole box full. We spent time there and then sleepily stood and watched the animals scratch their heads, holler, eat and chew. 

Even on weekends with little time left to spent, a memory and an adventure are those memories I find true. 

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