It's been one of those very hot summers where the berries are practically bursting off the bushes, so I have taken Ronan berry picking on beautiful Sauvie Island a few times. I am sure that we ate way more berries than we brought home, but we still got several batches of jam out of it. Ronan's first berry picking escapade was a delight to watch as he was so single-minded and methodical...picking and stuffing his little cheeks. He was so cute it inspired me to write some bad poetry. Brace yourself.
A sturdy little boy with a round cheek
and rosebud lips
enjoys his first summer harvest on one of those languid, late summer afternoons
where the air is heavy and the whole world seems at peace
Bees hover above the sun-baked earth lazing from clover bud to clover bud
drunk on nectar
He plucks each black jewel from the vine
each dark orb bursting with sweetness and life
little fingers sticky with purple juice,
tummy round and full
He smiles and offers me a bite
Is there anything more delicious than a blackberry still warm
from the sun? It tastes of earth, of sky, of rain.
The small boy giggles, watching me savor his gift.
He leans forward and gives me a sticky kiss and pats my cheek
"Mama" he says