inspired by wild strawberries

I've always loved wild strawberries. Wild, alpine, woodland or fraises de bois. Different names for the same plant. Pick them carefully and share them with your best friend. They sit in the palm of your hand like small jewels. The pleasure is all in the anticipation.

One of the loveliest gifts I have ever been given was a small pot of wild strawberry jam. How long, I wonder, did it take my friend to pick enough of the tiny fruits to boil up in a pan with sugar?

The plant grew happily in our wild garden in Aberdeenshire. I found some in our garden here. I put a few plants in a pot by the back door so I can keep an eye on them until the woodland area is more established. As I watered them this morning, I realised that one of the plants was different. Its receptacle is black instead of the usual yellow. Is this unusual, I wonder?