Strawberry Season

Strawberry season officially marks the beginning of summer for me. The season kicks off in mid-to late April, arriving just as our homeschool year begins to wind down.

For the past ten years now, my children and I have shared a cherished tradition centered around a quiet Amish community about 15 miles away. Every trip into town becomes a game of excited anticipation. We scan the roadside for those hand-painted signs at the end of long, gravel driveways, waiting for the one that finally announces: *Strawberries.* When that sign appears, the race is on.

Because the Amish sell on a first-come, first-served basis, we hurry out in the cool of the morning. We drive with the windows down, feeling the first true warmth of the season flow through the car. The air is rich with the scent of freshly turned soil, and the trees are fully leafed, their deep greens signaling that the last traces of winter are gone.

As we pull into the settlement, the modern world seems to fade away, replaced by the rhythmic *clip-clop* of horse-drawn carriages and the steady, hardworking pace of a life that feels rooted in another time.

Over the first few weeks of the season, we make multiple trips, eventually bringing home 10 to 12 gallons.

On the drive back, the temptation is simply too much. Hands reach into the buckets, sneaking fresh, unwashed berries that are still warm from the sun. By the time we reach our own driveway, the youngest has a face stained red with the first sweetness of the season.

Once home, the real work begins.

It takes several days of freezing and canning as our kitchen fills with activity. We fill the freezer and the counters begin to line with jars of strawberry jam, there are shortcakes, and pies, and of course strawberry milkshakes along the way.

As the sun sets on a long day of preserving, I’m reminded that these moments are about more than just fruit.

They are about the slow rhythm of the seasons and the simple joy of a harvest shared with the ones I love.

A way of capturing a little bit of the season’s sweetness to carry us through the rest of the year.