Do you remember the strawberries? In the warm golden afternoon of summer, when John opened the strawberry field and you could pick them for a pound a punnet (I don’t really remember how much they were, probably not a pound). The rows and rows of leafy little plants and the moment of joy to spot a juicy, jewel bright strawberry nestling under their green umbrellas, stained red fingers and lips. Buying them from the supermarket doesn’t feel the same. Just picked strawberries have a delicious, earthy-juicy smell on their skin and are full of flavour, nothing like the watery out of season shop kind. We ate them sitting on the grass, dipped straight into a pot of cream or just fresh on their own. They are the taste of childhood summer.