Our end-of-summer picnic took most of the day. We hiked down to Daisy Park from the forest service road through un-tampered forest. Half way down we discovered the first strawberry, tiny and brilliant red nearly hidden under green leaves. Soon we were all on hands and knees collecting the tiny sweet bites. They had no relationship to the gigantic berries in plastic clam shells that we get at the store. The park was thick with waist high timothy grass and Daisy Dean creek ran through the middle with pines and firs shading its banks. Daisy Peak frames one side of the park and Daisy Notch the other. It was my first time to the Park. I’ve heard of it many times from sheep trailing days, but I never realized it was so easy to get to. So many places here in Montana are part of family legend and have seemed mysterious and far away. As I finally go to them I’ve discovered them to more than warrent the stories that have been told about them over and over.