Writing Prompt Wednesday #34: The Scent of Strawberries

Photo source: picjumbo

Photo source: picjumbo


Strawberries are finally in season here in north-eastern Poland. This is my favorite time of year as I love strawberries, cherries, raspberries, blueberries, plums, and all the bounty of nature that is suddenly exploding.

Walking by one of the strawberry sellers today (one of many that set up on sidewalks around town), the scent of strawberries followed me. It reminded me of my early childhood summers spent on my uncle’s farm, where we (the children) picked strawberries (including wild strawberries), played in the forests, made homes among boulders, and swam in rivers filled with monsters that could pull you under. Along those rivers, I discovered tadpoles, crayfish, and leeches. The village people introduced me to old traditions of weddings in barns, fire cupping and leaches used as medical treatments, as well as stories of baba jaga living in a house on a chicken’s leg. The land was bruised and wounded by bombs – holes in the Earth that looked unnatural to my child eyes.

Writing prompt: Write a story or poem that features fruit. Maybe the scent evokes memories for one of the characters. Play around with the idea and see what you come up with.

Post your story/poem or link in the comments by July 6 to be included in the round up.

8 thoughts on “Writing Prompt Wednesday #34: The Scent of Strawberries

  1. Oh strawberries ๐Ÿ™‚ my mother in law has amazing white strawberries in her garden, they don’t taste or smell like normal ones, they even have a hint of vanilla.
    If I join this writing prompt I sure am curious what I’ll come up with.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Some of my most treasured childhood memories come straight out of the kitchen. My mother, sister, and I cooking or baking for some holiday or special event, my father looking on, laughing as his girls lovingly bickered and giggled. Throughout the summer, my mother was constantly preserving food. Peeling and canning whole vegetables, cooking down batches of peppers and tomatoes into salsa, spicing fruit and mashing up the most delicious sauces and fruit butters, and of course the delectable jams and jellies.

    My favorite treat during this season-long process was easily the delectable foam that we skimmed off of the top of a big pot of stewing jam. Raspberries created the most foam for some reason, and easily were the best tasting berries. Not ideal to be included in canning, my mother would collect this very top layer of her simmering concoction and would ladle it carefully into a bowl. It would sit there on the counter, cooling, my young eyes staring at the steaming goodness, licking my lips in eager anticipation.

    When it had reached an edible temperature, and when my mother had decided that our patience had been tested quite enough, we would smear this frothy foam onto a slice of buttered toast, the combination of sweet fluff and salty butter making for the most tantalizing of flavors. Mmmโ€ฆ The tastes, the memories of childhood summers past.

    There is a photo in an old album of me and my mother. Standing on my tiptoes on a wooden chair, I reached down into the huge cauldron of simmering berries, a huge smile on my 3 year old face, stained red with juice. A apron tied around my chest hung low over my feet, my small body smothered in the protective garment. One of my favorite photos, it always reminds me of the happy summer days we spent in that kitchen, of the way my mom showed her love by passing on these useful lessons through time spent together I will forever cherish and hope to share someday with my own children.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Taking a few days off | confessions of a broccoli addict

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