Fresh Strawberries in the Morning

As I poured cereal into my bowl this morning, I wondered out loud if the strawberries were ripe. Eric said he thought he saw some red berries the other day. I went out in my bare feet and picked four bright red strawberries. I actually wiped the dew from them before washing them off. I love this part of my life—that now I can walk into my back yard and eat something that we planted. I always dreamed of this when I lived in Reston. You never know where dreams will take you. For now, I am in Waynesboro, Va., in the southern part of the Shenandoah Valley. I can see mountains in the not too far distance and my just-budding gardens in front me. Not bad. Not bad at all.