There is something so beautiful about being able to walk into a berry patch and pick food with your own hands.
I came for the strawberries, but I left with so much more.
I’ve been feeling especially grateful for the simple gifts that nourish us, not only the food we eat, but the moments that bring us back to ourselves.
Remembering my childhood days, berrypicking with my dad and siblings. There were so many of us.
Standing among the strawberry plants, reaching down to pick each little berry, I found myself appreciating just how much abundance surrounds us when we slow down enough to notice it. Sometimes nourishment comes in ways we don’t expect.
Yes, these strawberries will nourish my body. They are fresh, sweet, and full of goodness. But there was another kind of nourishment happening as I wandered through the patch—sunshine, the earth beneath my feet, the shared fellowship with my friend, and the simple picking something with my own hands.
Sometimes you have to look beneath the surface to discover what’s ready to nourish you.
We live in a world where most of our food comes neatly packaged and ready to eat.
There was something grounding about bending down, reaching into the green leaves and discovering a beautiful red strawberry waiting to be picked.
It reminded me that there is something deeply satisfying about returning to the simple things.
From blossom to berry, there is beauty in every stage of becoming.
Look closely and you’ll find abundance.
One little strawberry plant can offer so much. A patch filled with them becomes almost magical—a sea of green leaves dotted with little bursts of red.
It made me pause and think about how often abundance is right in front of us, yet we rush past it without noticing.
Sometimes, nourishment looks like simply being here.
I’m learning that nourishment isn’t only about what we put on our plate.
It’s also about what we allow into our lives. The places we spend time. The people we surround ourselves with. The moments we choose to slow down and savour.
So, as I stood in that strawberry patch with a basket filling one berry at a time, I felt grateful. Grateful for the earth.
Grateful for the hands that planted and cared for these berries. And grateful that I could simply be there, picking fruit that would nourish my body while the experience itself nourished something deeper within me.
From my little corner of the world.
P.S.
“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit.”
— Henry David Thoreau
