El Burro Volador

Rebekah and I have a lovely little strawberry plant in our back yard.  In the summertime, it can usually be counted on to produce a few beautiful little berries every so often.  Though they are small, they are such an arrestingly deep red, and so much more flavorful than the strawberries one gets at the supermarket, that I treasure each handful that ‘Bekah brings in for us to share.

That is why it has been particularly worrisome to me to see that some mysterious botanical ailment has afflicted our strawberry plant.  I am baffled, which is hardly surprising considering my more or less total ignorance of the finer points of gardening, but Rebek possesses an impressive amount of the green lore, and the symptoms puzzle her as well.  I am turning to my reader(s?) for help, so I shall describe for you the outward signs of the ailment in brief:

Berries appear to be forming normally, beginning as small green buds that gradually grow larger and blush toward that deep red color they will attain when ripe.  Then, just as they approach ripeness, Rebekah will venture out into the garden one morning and find a pulpy red stump where once the nascent berry dangled.  It is almost as if the berries have burst or something, though there is seldom any trace of exploded berry upon the ground.  Has any such thing been heard of in the annals of botanical science?  Are we the proud owners of the first exploding strawberry plant?