Our tradition has been going strong for 3 years now. An early March trip to the Strawberry farm to pick the gorgeous red gems at their peak. A slight crispness still lingers in the air and the sky hints at Springs imminent arrival. This year I stood back and watched as the gentle breeze played with your hair and the early morning sun rays caressed your faces in the gentlest of ways. I just couldn’t get over the extra inches added to you both and your baby faces all but gone. I watched you enjoying the moment, with dirt caked fingernails and soil scuffed knees. Perfect poetry for my soul.
