The carton of strawberries looked enticing. Rosy red and fresh. And special, too. Just read the carton — Limited Edition.

I’ll be. Limited edition on fresh strawberries. Of course, it’s limited. It’s limited to a growing season and, assuming the purpose of buying said berries is to eat, how can the berries not be limited?

The box of Smith County watermelons has no limited edition printed on it, although a sticker on the melon does trumpet the geographical land from which the melons come. Melons are limited edition — about two months from June to August — but there is no need to label them as limited. How about corn on the cob? Or bread? Imagine the chemicals needed for unlimited edition bread.

The words limited edition, though, make a product sound as if it is special in some way and usually adds a few dollars on to the price tag. It’s a slick tactic that can be found on everything from cereal to strawberries to beer.

The first ingredient printed on the bottles of a beer produced from a Portland, Ore., brewery reads, “free-range coastal water.” As opposed to the inland water being held in bondage behind a razor-wire fence or packed into tiny cubbyholes, I assume?

Maybe it is true, though, that there is such a thing in Oregon as free-range coastal water. The water is free and where there is a coast there usually is water. But the range? Where the deer and the angel fish roam?

Free-range, though, invokes visions of chickens and turkeys roaming the countryside free. It is a fact — through years and years of personal research — that free-range birds taste better than those in poultry sweatshops.

And where are the “limited edition” labels on chicken? Each chicken is different and there are only so many parts of said chicken that can be eaten. When those parts are gone, that edition is gone. Limited edition, indeed.

But I digress. Does free-range coastal water taste better than Portland Water Bureau water? It’s probably the same water, but it feels better to know that the product is made from water not in the throes of confinement.

Back at the ranch, err, range, my limited edition strawberries are taking a turn for the worse. I know berries’ days are numbered. It saddens me that I no longer will be able to acquire such a limited commodity.

Until the next grocery truck arrives, that is, with pallets of the latest limited edition berries and cases of free-range beer?