I never did get to the garden yesterday. Instead I got waylaid by a wayside bush. Actually many of them...
When I stopped to see what grew in the area where K had seen a woman and her daughter picking something close to the ground I found blueberries! I knew blueberry season was coming, the wonderful wild kind and had asked at the strawberry farm where we picked earlier in the week if they knew where to find the wild ones and they said we would have to go closer to the coast. Not sure if she thought (noting my out-of-state plate) that we were looking to pick them that day or what...
But blueberry season seems to be here, and after several hours of "blueberry yoga" as a bent, stretched, squatted and for a while, sat perched on one of the hardest, sharpest bits of granite ever to protrude from the Maine roadside, I ended up with a quart of the wonderful tiny berries.
If this is not some Maine woods rite of passage, it SHOULD be... along with seeing a moose, counting the deer in your neighbor's yard and flushing a flock of wild turkeys as you drive home into the sunset.
No, I didn't get anything done on A's garden... but it will still be there today, after a breakfast of oatmeal garnished with fresh, wild blueberries.
"...the way life should be..."
