On one of our trips this summer we discovered fields of wild strawberries.
Those meadows lay off the beaten track but so close to the top of one of the most visited mountains (hills?) that is located close to the place where my great grandmom was born. Ž suggested that we come again. So we did. My dad joined us.
We picked around seven litres of strawberries in about three hours, had a delicious snack in between, eaten lots of strawberries while being bent over the ground and thought about coming again next year.
Now most of those strawberries are frozen and will be eaten during the winter time when all fruits in the shops will be imported from Spain or Italy or some other far away country.