I pulled up to Bec's house at 10:30 a.m. on the dot, iced coffees in hand. We slide into her bright red car, picked a Spotify playlist and opened Google Maps to begin the drive to our destination. One slight problem, though: the strawberry farm we were planning to go to was closed.
We were shocked, hurt and disappointed. But we quickly recovered.
A quick Google search lead us to Kelley's Berry Farm, which Instagram confirmed was in fact open to pick berries (blueberries and blackberries rather than strawberries, but we weren't gonna be picky). It was nearly an hour away, but we both up for a drive.
We wound our way through back roads of Tennessee and couldn't have been happier. We arrived at the small farm to blue skies and a slight breeze, keeping the heat and humidity at bay. We picked berry after berry, eating only a few, relived to be away from the city, even if just for a few hours. Although right next to the highway, this hidden gem of a place gets passed by unknown hundreds and thousands of times each day.
There were no specific plans to have a photo shoot, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to snap some pictures while we picked. Bec, too, brought a film camera, a medium I'm delighted to see someone using. In the end, we walked away with three pounds of berries for less than $10 and a promise to come back for peach season, an obligation we will happily keep.
Our final stop was at a tiny cafe in the middle of nowhere for some much needed lunch. It was homey little place with mismatching furniture and dishware, but it was delicious. The perfect ending to the perfect day.
