Summer Berry Picking
Several miles from the Warrior Forest, and centered in a rolling valley is a berry farm. The paved road becomes dirt and winds into the center of it, where stands an old wooden shed with some beautiful hardwoods growing close and giving shade. It is one of those structures that makes one nostalgic because it is a simple, unpainted rectangle with a corrugated metal roof, rusty here and there, AND has gorgeous Butterfly bushes vining over the edges, blooming their soft lavender flowers. The dirt around the shed is packed down, and there are stacks of wooden baskets on the porch and deck where customers/pickers can tally up. Wooden benches, an outdoor sink and cold water are available too.
Mature blueberry bushes inhabit most of the land in straight rows, many seven to eight feet high. There is a parcel given to blackberries, a section for fig trees, and three varieties of grape vines growing along the fenceline and in the higher, terraced regions of the farm. Ground hoses run here and there with the perforations that allow a slow trickle of water to moisten the earth around the roots. It is an organic farm and one feels free to partake of the fruit while picking – settling up on that later – in a creative way, I might add.
I am stunned by the beauty of this place and the voluptuous growth, the food and nourishment the earth gives up so generously. We pick, we eat, we take home to share, and there is plenty. What a sensuous pleasure to reach out with one’s amazing fingers and select a plump berry or grape and then to taste its liquor! How delightful to be weaving through the big bushes along with the birds and the butterflies!
Our basket fills easily, and it is difficult to stop. We are momentarily addicted to this game and the delight we experience. We return to the shed and tally up on our very full basket, then take a bill or two over to the “sin” bucket, and “pay up” for our continuous snacking. Next to the bucket is a tall-mounted school bell with a rope pull. After we pay we ring the bell and acknowledge our “sin”. The money we have deposited will be donated to Hospice, and we are humored by the farmer’s ingenuity here. Sure: it could be called something else, and yet, “sin bucket” gives us a chuckle because “atonement” is so easy and beneficial to others. Hmmm….
Sarah
sarah@powerupeight.com
