Sunday scribblings: wild rubies

Yummy... mmmm.... what a glorious word. Because of its slightly lower status it conjures up thoughts and visions not only of deliciousness, but of pure, unadulterated fun. And what’s better than fun deliciousness? Yummy you can eat with your hands, yummy should dribble down your chin, down your arms… Yummy is uninhibited scrumptiousness. Eat yummy with abandon, feed your lover yummy, because it doesn’t get better than this…

The yummiest thing I know? It’s easy. For a complete experience I need a sunny afternoon meadow, sometime in late July. With my yummy-detector on high I expertly scan the ground… and there they are, wild strawberries glowing like rubies… Nothing makes my heart sing quite like the vision of a patch of these delicious gems; their scent and aroma are enough to ricochet me back to my childhood, when we used to string them up on straw and wear them like necklaces until they disintegrated from our warm bodies, their juice trickling down our summer dresses.

Now I simply pick a handful and savour their intensity, enhanced by the late afternoon sun. Nothing bought, nothing exotic imported from faraway lands can compare with the taste of wild strawberries filling not just my mouth, but my entire self. It’s not just yummy, it is a moment of pure bliss…