posted on May, 4 2015 @ 12:51 AM
Many years ago, I lived in a house right next to a strawberry field. We were a low income family, so picking strawberries in the early summer was an
unusual opportunity to earn some money. I was 12 or 13.
I picked the berries, and hated the spiders that sometimes walked over me. Today I feel sympathy for those spiders. Their name is daddy long
There was a girl who lived across the field that also picked strawberries. I can't remember her name. But I remember that she was the first female
I ever felt that out of control, it consumes my thoughts and feelings, sort of thing. I made sure to be picking strawberries next to her row of
strawberries. She definitely seemed to enjoy my company. But she was a way less effective strawberry picker compared to me, so I had to slow down to
not move ahead of her.
I wonder where she is today. I hope her life turned out to be a good life. At the time I thought she was my first love. But only in my mind was
she my first love. She was cute and pleasant, and she was there at an important time for me. Later, it might have been something less, but not in
those strawberry field back in 1960. Back then, she was the light of my life for a year or two.