It was a hot summer day in the middle of July, a perfect time for fresh, ripe strawberries. The rows were long and full of plump strawberries that were ready to be picked and eaten. While we were their they were in the process of building a fence around all the rows of strawberries to keep out wild animals and also their pet dog, Molly. She is very mischievous and would also run through the rows and eat the strawberries. In the process of picking the fruit their was little beatles all around. The beatles were not too bad because they were only in a select few places and not on all of the strawberries. The reason we had gone that day to pick them was because we were making my uncle's favorite strawberry dessert and surprising him when he came home from his tiring, strenuous hike.
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