The Strawberry Man ~ ‘Here Come’s Summer’

‘The Strawberry Man’ was among  the very first pieces that I posted here on  Social Bridge. It had been published in our local paper, The Munster Express, in July 2010 and has huge personal meaning for me as it connects me to people,  places, emotions, memories, and hopes that are intensely special. 

I’m thrilled to report that the Strawberry Man is back for this season. We had a great chat this morning ~ and his smile was brighter than ever. He said that he’s a bit overwhelmed by the welcome he’s receiving from his ‘regulars’ but, in his humble way, he attributed that to the fact that he feels that people see him and think: Oh, here comes Summer!


The Strawberry Man

Driving over Priest’s Road on my way to Newtown Cove for an early morning swim in the June sun, I see him setting up his table. Would summer be summer in Tramore without the familiar figure of the Strawberry Man?

I run down the wood at Newtown, passing the little wooden bridges which are bathed in dappled sunlight and watch the sparkling stream babble along beneath. The trees are hanging low, their leaves green and full. Birds are singing and flapping through the dense foliage.  At the end of the wood, the Cove opens up in front of me, the cliffs still decorated with sea pinks, and the calm sea sparkling in the dazzling sunshine.

I plunge into the depths and feel such a sense of wellbeing and awe at the incredible beauty that surrounds me:  sheltered cove, sun-kissed rocks, clear blue water reflecting the clear blue sky, the familiar arm of Brownstown stretching out into the open sea. The perfect start to any day! Where else in the world could I ever want to be than my Tramore?

Coming back towards the church end of Priest’s Road, I see that the Strawberry Man’s table is ready. The colourful tablecloth blows gently in the breeze and the wide green parasol signals that he is open for business. It’s now thirty years since he started coming to Tramore from his native Wexford and almost twenty-five years since he has been selling his produce in that spot at the edge of the car park which seems like his natural summer habitat.

 Bluebells in Newtown Wood, sea pinks on the cliffs at the Cove and the coming of the Strawberry Man tell me that summer has come to Tramore. All this happens around the June Bank Holiday and while the flowers fade the Strawberry Man stays until Summer’s end.  The season starts with punnets of  freshly picked strawberries, new potatoes, rhubarb and cabbage but each in their own time, he brings raspberries, loganberries, gooseberries and blackcurrants.

What he also brings is cheerfulness, kind eyes and an uncanny ability to read the mood of his customers. He knows when the time is right for a few friendly words, a bit of banter, or perhaps a sympathetic smile. He stands tall, with greying hair now, and is softly spoken with a touch of that Wexford accent that is so distinctive and more like an American twang than any Irish accent I’ve ever come across.

Just as we have watched his children grow into adults, he has dealt with different generations of Tramore families over the years.  As I bought my strawberries today, and was enveloped by that delicious aroma of newly picked fruit, I found myself thinking of my late mother. I was catapulted back to summer evenings when she would be making jam with the fruit she would buy from him. Nothing will ever match the delicious smell that pervaded the whole house when the raspberry jam was bubbling in the big pot on the cooker, while all the empty jam jars stood washed and ready on the kitchen table.  August was the time for the blackcurrant jam and that involved topping and tailing pounds and pounds of the tiny berries. Mother liked to do this outside so we would sit on old deck chairs chatting, each of us filling bowls with prepared fruit and getting our hands stained and sun tanned at the same time.

 As I make way for his next customer, and sample a perfectly ripened strawberry, I hear the fresh sound of friendly chat about plans for a picnic on the beach and how much the strawberries will be appreciated.  I wonder to myself if the Strawberry Man knows how much he is appreciated, as well as his produce. Has he any idea of the extent to which he evokes Summer and how much we miss him when the season is done?

Author: socialbridge

I am a sociologist and writer from Ireland. I have worked as a social researcher for 30 years and have had a lifelong passion for writing. My main research interests relate to health care and sense of place.

6 thoughts on “The Strawberry Man ~ ‘Here Come’s Summer’”

  1. I thought you might enjoy this piece I wrote a few years ago called … Today I shall Eat Strawberries For the last week, for breakfast, I’ve been eating toast with peanut butter and banana. It’s a favorite of mine as a vegetarian breakfast, but today I woke up with a thought. That thought was, “Today I shall eat strawberries.” I have a pint of strawberries in my refrigerator, and I’ve looked at them every day, and I haven’t felt as drawn to them as I did when I bought them. But this morning, something in me said, “It’s time to eat strawberries.” Since I try to look at the larger meaning in all my thoughts, but especially those early morning messages, I meditated and used that phrase as a seed thought, today I shall eat strawberries. Hmmm. Some very interesting things came to me. 1. Today I shall make a change, not a big change, but an obvious one. 2. Today I shall focus on red instead of yellow, get out of my mind and into my body. And perhaps this was my body’s message of what it needs. 3. Today I shall have a little more tartness in my life. Sometimes we focus too much on the sweetness, and we have to balance that out with a little more tangy energy. That tang can help us move out of lethargy. 4. Also, banana is considered a masculine symbol because of its shape. Strawberries are considered feminine, food of the goddesses. Perhaps I’m shifting from my masculine more into my feminine side today. I haven’t eaten my strawberries yet because I wanted to share this meditation with you. I did make coffee, as I have all week, and it tastes terrible to me. I like coffee, and it’s the same coffee I’ve been making, and the same creamer, but today I don’t like it. Something has definitely changed. I like that, actually. I can use a change. I welcome a change. What kind of changes are you welcoming into your life? Now, I shall eat my beautiful luscious strawberries.

    Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2014 15:42:48 +0000 To:

  2. Excellent story. Twenty five years at the same spot. Usually people are only appreciated when they’re gone but this guy seems a legend. A pity the Co-op’s shut as I have this strange and sudden need for a few strawberries.

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