One of the greatest pleasures in life is splitting a yellow Crenshaw melon the size of your head in the grass with a pocketknife, then smothering - alternately - your face and a spoon into it, making mandatoriliy loud slurping noises as seeds and juice and melon drip every which way.
When you're down to the last shred of flesh and the skin is flopping around loose in your hands, you'll be holding a bowl of sweet Crenshaw juice. Then you pour that down your throat, down your chin and shirt, and you're done; no longer hungry or thirsty, and sticky with the smell of honey.
So then you move on to the strawberries...