On the way up the hill this morning, there they were: baskets heaped high with berries, basking in the sunlight just rising over the water. It was so, well you know I have to say it, picturesque. They blazed in the rays, and I couldn't help but stop and buy a few to take home, and crouch down to snap their pretty faces.
The couple standing there, bundled againt the cold, talking quietly with the old man who stopped to ask prices, seemed an ironic backdrop to these iconic symbols of summer. They muttered under their breath to one another as I snapped away, he holding my bit of change and both of them unsure why exactly I needed to photograph their food.
I didn't try to explain to them that they looked funny too, wrapped from head to toe to ward of the February chill while selling summer's trademark delight. I didn't go on about how I love buying strawberries piled in baskets on the side of the road rather than stacked nicely on shelves in their green plastic containers back in the States. And I didn't say that spring is coming, and that their presence here, along with these ruby red fruits, is another sure sign of it.