Strawberry Blossom

I can smell the strawberries.....I wonder if anyone back in PA goes "strawberry picking" anymore?  It was a big thing at our house growing up and I still have one of my dads berry pots.  When my Dad would come home with the buckets full it was hucking the berry, strawberry stained fingers....but goodness they were delishiouss.  Mom made strawberryjam that we enjoyed all winter long on our morning toast.  There was also a strawberry desert she made that was out of this world but ooohhhh so fattening.   I can remember my Dad getting stung by bees, shot at because he was "tresspassing" on their property, chased by a bear....and many other stories.  Some seasons the berries were small and others they were large.  He had his "favorite" patches and would head out every night after supper until dark....picking.  This just might be a cool picture to paint with memories attached... Will be challenged with the shading, the soft fuzzy inside areas of the flower....and the green backdrop.
I think this will be one of my next pieces to sketch out.

2 comments:

  1. Lovely photograph and I can't wait to see your sketch. Picking strawberries was a childhood pass-time of mine as well, I hated it at the time but now the thoughts of picking a fresh berry, warm from the sun and popping it into my mouth sound divine! Love the memories of your Dad's picking exploits, who knew picking strawberries was so dangerous!!

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  2. My fathers' picking was done a good 50 some years ago....times were different them......or

    Dad would get so excited over large patches, big berries, etc. it was easy to not look and just keep picking until you are on private property....

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