Strawberry season in the Northwest has come to a close and farmers are mowing down the plants in the many U-Pick fields that scatter across the agricultural landscape west of Portland Oregon. It's a beautiful time of year. Fields of wheat have turned a brilliant blond, hay-bales dot the hills, blueberry bushes bend under the weight of their fruit, gardens are exploding in front yards, orchards are full; it's a quintessential picture of Bountiful Americana.
We were zig-zagging our way west on back roads toward the Tillamook State Forest, celebrating our return to life on the road after nearly 2 weeks of visiting and lazy-ing about with my sister--and as we approached a little crossroads we were overcome by the most intoxicating smell. It was citrusy, hot, tangy and sweet--a little off, but so fragrant and mysterious, a perfect Eau d' Summer... my best guess was apricots baking in the sunshine, but Zach could tell it was strawberries right away. And then there it was, one of those huge, freshly cut, U-Pick fields--a massacre of strawberries as far as the eye could see--a million little fruity bodies in sweet decay giving their parting gift....
I took as many slow, deep breaths as I could without hyperventilating. That moment IS this summer for me, replete now with that scent. Hot sun on my sweaty back, an incredible landscape, the click of shifting gears, Zach's steady pedaling in front of me, our flag-pole fluttering in the breeze....almost brings a tear to my eye to try to describe it here. I wanted to share the perfection of that fleeting, quiet, moment. I wish you could smell it. Sadly, no photos because my phone died.