When my brother and I were kids, we stayed with our dad for a few summers on the Spokane Reservation. We played for countless hours in the forests, fields, and ponds surrounding our dad's house. One day in June, we discovered a massive patch of wild strawberries growing nearby. We spent hours sitting on the ground and eating the strawberries until our hands and faces were covered with strawberry juice. This was one of my favorite childhood memories.
A few days ago, I related this story to Patrick and Tim during our search for black moss. Perhaps an hour later, we stopped by the roadside and found a large patch of strawberries - just like my story. The wild strawberries were just as magical as I remember them.