A Fruitful Year

Some years are more fruitful than others.  Last year was one of those years.  From mid-June until mid-August I never set out for my morning walk without slipping a pint jar into my pocket.  I wanted to be prepared to pick first the low bush blueberries, then the huckleberries on the powerline right-of-way, and later, in August, the blackberries that overhung the Far Field Road. But for nearly three weeks in July, most of my berry-picking centered on our home grounds where, for the first time i Originally posted here:  A Fruitful Year

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A Fruitful Year