I have a small patch of crushed stone next to my cement walkway in front of my trailer in the trailer park down by the river. The crushed stones don't get trod upon much so a few weeds have begun to poke their heads through over the last few years. I don't own a steel rake, only an electric weed whacker which throws crushed stone at my plastic trailer skirting so I don't use it much.
Tonight while waiting for my burger to cook on the gas grill I found that the few wild strawberries which are part of the weeds growing through my crushed stone (it's not really mine, I only rent it) are ripe and I bend down and pick the three or four that are ready for eating. They're about the size of a pea but they still taste as sweet as any strawberry around.
Pan the camera back. You're living in a trailer park by the river. You're not sure how you ended up there, you only know you didn't plan it. You look out your window and see your quiet long haired neighbor who keeps to himself bend over and pick up something out the the walk way and eat it. You think to yourself, "I wish I could afford some land of my own."
