{Alternate title: Kurplunk!}
It’s the tail-end of blueberry season ’round these parts, which means the bushes are loaded and the berries are tastier than ever. The plants can sense that fall is closing in, and they think, “Crap! Must procreate!” and they put all their energy into beautiful fruit. Yum.
My aunt, uncle, and two cousins were visiting from Chicago and we got the berry-picking itch. Blue Vista is one of my favorite places to pick because their farm is gorgeous- perched on a hill overlooking Lake Superior- and they’re organic, so we headed north with visions of blueberry pancakes and muffins and pies to come.
Blueberries here, raspberries behind us.
A blue heron overhead, the big lake below.
Whole handfuls of berries coming off the bush all at once.
“She picked three more berries and ate them. Then she picked more berries and dropped one in the pail-Kurplunk! And the rest she ate.” -McCloskey, R. (1976). Blueberries for Sal. New York: Viking Press.
What beautiful girls my cousins are…
And yet they can make the weirdest faces…
Hmmm, yes, I do believe we are related. Except, why are they so tall and I am so short? Unfair.