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Hahahaha!! Wonderful, as always.
I lived in Florida for awhile during my childhood. There was an undeveloped lot down the street from our house, thick with wild blackberry brambles. The fruit was luscious! So sweet and juicy. We picked buckets and buckets of blackberries and ate them by the bowlful with a little milk and sugar–like berry cereal made of berries instead of frosted, fluorescent, artificial-berry-flavor-infused-corn puffs. Having enjoyed them so bountifully for free, it makes me cringe to see tiny little 1/2 pint packages of blackberries in the grocery store going for about a dollar an ounce.
Once, among the tangle of blackberries, my mom spied a timid little wild strawberry plant with 3 or 4 little ripe strawberries dangling from the viny stems. We took the berries home, rinsed them off, sliced them carefully so that everyone could have a little taste. They were so pithy and bland. Absolutely flavorless. Not even the faintest scent of strawberries came from the little red lumps. Oh well. But the blackberries were soooo good.