"We do not remember days -- We remember moments"

I intended to write about peaches today, but a friend ambushed me with an invitation to see her
strawberry bed here in Sonoma County. 
If a picture is worth a thousand words, this photo submission has saved me a whole lotta time. 
(enough to get to those peaches in our backyard in my next post)
You should know that I'm not a gardener, so whenever I'm among them and their produce, I'm in the kind of awe that they find pretty funny. "She doesn't know they go through several permutations before presenting themselves in secret stealth and numbers, ready to be popped into the mouth!" they snigger.
wink, wink, ha ha on me. Well, here's how they looked. (a thousand words, remember?)
And tasted? A warm explosion of sugar; it was as if they had already been cut and dressed with sugar for maceration. And soft all the way through, every bit of them edible. It was a circus on my taste buds,
sugar, strawberry, sugar, strawberry -- fading gracefully like a decrescendo. Like Yo Yo Ma playing the lyrical music of Ennio Morricone, Cinema Paradiso...melodies dying into sighs.
Cesare Pavese, Italian novelist and poet has said, "We do not remember days -- we remember moments." And when my friend popped that first strawberry into my mouth, the ecstatic shock became a moment I will never forget.