Blue fingers and blue lips and a full bucket
After what seems like months of nothing but rain and spongy water soaked yards and now flocks of mosquitoes, a day spent picking blueberries is a perfect way to spend a sunny day–but early in the morning before the temperature rises.
I’ve picked berries in several places but this year I needed to pick them at a place with tall bushes so that my back did not have to bend. I gathered a few last year just south of Warren but it was the very last of the season and there weren’t many. This year the rain has washed many away and the season will be short.
Bees were busy working the bushes but no stings as tomorrow they are off to North Dakota. Geese huddled near the fence to warn the owners of our presence but they were safely behind the fence and I think their wings were clipped—but I was not going to personally inspect and verify.
Picking blueberries means testing the berries to see if they are sweet and ripe–hence blue fingers and blue lips. No thorns means no scratches like blackberries. So I came home with a bucket of blueberries with about an hour of what I hesitate to call work.
My dear friend and I took the opportunity–since we were in the neighborhood to visit a quilt shop and then buy some fresh produce on our way home.
Tomorrow—blueberry scones for breakfast!
Sylvia Weir Art 