Strawberry season is short but sweet, and somehow I missed the boat on this year’s bounty.

In a blink of an eye, those local luscious red orbs are gone. They had their day in the sun and we had a few days of delicious delirium when they were ripe and ready for eating.

All year I wait for local strawberries, eschewing those grown elsewhere, and when they are perfect, I indulge and enjoy. But, sadly, I don’t feel that I got my fill this year. Unfortunately, I will have to wait another year to satisfy my berry craving.

When strawberries are in season, I eat them for their terrific taste and their helpful health benefits, and I am not alone in my fondness for this fruit. In the U.S., approximately 94 per cent of households enjoy this food, whether it is local or not. And in a survey of 7 to 9 year olds, more than 50 per cent called strawberries their favorite fruit.

Strawberries are a great source of vitamin C and antioxidants. Eat only eight berries to get your recommended daily vitamin C intake. 

Surprisingly, not everyone has a love affair with strawberries. St. Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th-century abbess, insisted that “strawberries were unfit to eat due to the fact that they grew close to the ground.” This proximity was believed to “contaminate the fruit because snakes and toads may have touched it.”

Queen Anne Boleyn, wife of Henry VIII, had a strawberry-shaped birthmark on her neck, leading some to believe that this confirmed her identity as a witch.

The majority, though, both then and now, deviate from the suggested disagreeableness of strawberries.

Strawberries have long been associated with Venus, the goddess of love, likely due to their heart shape and red color. The Narraganset called them wuttahimneash, or “heart berry.” Double strawberries are especially potent predictors of love — breaking one in half and sharing it with someone suggests that mutual love will befall both parties.

Country folks in Bavaria were believed to practice an annual rite every spring that required strawberries. Small baskets of wild berries were tied to the horns of cattle as an offering to the elves.  The theory was that elves, who are very fond of strawberries, would thank them for the gift by helping to produce healthy calves that would have an abundance of milk. 

Sixteenth-century author William Butler was also enthusiastic about strawberries. In describing them, he wryly observed, “Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did.”

The name strawberry has a variety of genesis stories. Some say that the name comes from the word “streawberige,” which means spreading berry. Others suggest that they were sold in the market speared on a piece of straw. The most obvious is that the name is derived from the practice of surrounding the plants with straw while they are growing.

For those who can’t wait until next year’s Island crop, consider other non-local sources of strawberries. Though many states can grow them, California is by far the leader, boasting more than an 85 per cent market share of all commercial strawberries grown for consumption. That’s about 2 billion pounds — if lined up strawberry to strawberry, they could cross the nation 149 times!

While I respect the efforts of California berry farmers, I will practice patience until those local berries are again available. And though it may be another 350-plus days, I will keep my eye on the prize and remember the words of 18th-century philosopher John-Jacques Rousseau. He knew that “patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.” 

Suzan Bellincampi is director of the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in Edgartown, and author of Martha’s Vineyard: A Field Guide to Island Nature.