What is one to do when there are perfectly delicious blueberries, row upon row, just waiting to be picked, but the only caveat is that they don’t quite belong to you but rather are located on an abandoned property?
a) Think longingly of the berries, swelling and ripening, but instead go off to the store and purchase a small container of organic blueberries for an exorberant price.
b) Console yourself that the birds will have plenty of food, knowing that there is no way they can eat all those berries.
c) Grab your basket and get picking!
Need I tell you that Irene and I picked option C?
The air was cool and refreshing as we picked. The rows of blueberries hadn’t been tended for years and were now a tall, jumbled mess of weeds and black raspberries, which made the hunt all the more thrilling. I kept envisioning snakes slithering through the tall grass and every once in a while I’d call out to Irene who was buried in another row, making sure she was still alive. We’d keep pushing our way down a row through weeds that seemed impenetrable, lured on by the fat clusters of blue. Of course not all of them made it to our basket. 😉
blueberry pie? parfaits? smoothies? syrup? pancakes? muffins?