When I was still elementary school age, every summer me and one of my friends would bike to the edge of our suburban world into what seemed like wilderness to us: prairie grass, rolling hills, and trees, trees, trees. We would hunt through tall grass, kicking up hoards of flying grasshoppers with each step, and shout out whenever we found the tiny red morsels we were looking for. We would hunker down next to our wild strawberry patches to pick and eat little juicy beads until they had entirely disappeared. Since they only cropped up in the area for a week or two, we checked often so we wouldn’t miss the moment and took full advantage when it emerged.
This was my first lesson in