Letters to my children: Berry season

Dearest Beloveds,

When we lived in Michigan I thought the 5 pound boxes of blueberries one could purchase were obscenely amazing. I would eat blueberries for a week straight, until my tooth enamel yelled at me to stop (too much acidity).

Now we live in New York, with pick your own berry farms surrounding us and I realize that obscene is not the word. The words are glory, bounty, lavishness, profusion, cornucopia, richness, or abundance.

Standing in a row of cherry trees groaning with fruit feels like I am in the Garden of Eden. There are as many red shiny berries as there are leaves (this year anyway). All I do is reach up to gently fondle the fruit and it rains down onto the ground, into the bucket, down my arm. It is such a gift of abundant life and vibrant health and the Earth feeding us. I have no words honestly.

Strawberry picking started on June 6th at Thompson Finch and cherry picking commenced yesterday (the 17th) at Rose Hill. Yesterday we picked cherries and this morning we went first thing to pick strawberries (there is no shade picking strawberries, as we all know).

This morning both of you kept asking me if i could see on your face that were eating strawberries. My answer was always no, unlike yesterday. For some reason yesterday afternoon cherry juice ended up all over your faces. Dragon, you had some on your forehead and eyelids, Bean you had cherry juice virtually to your ears. The dark red stained both of your hands as well.

When we were walking back to the booth to pay for our 25 pounds (wowza) of cherries the cider maker at Rose Hill stopped to chat. He took one look at Dragon, “That boy needs to go on the scale.”

I laugh, chagrined, but only somewhat.

Bean, you ask after he drove on, “What is a scale?”

The flip side of picking many many fresh berries is that we have to deal with them. The leisurely glory of picking strawberries in the early morning freshness - taste testing all the way - belies the race against the clock the moment we leave. Berries continue to ripen after being picked and have a shelf life of about 2-3 days before the soft spots turn into mush. To dry, to freeze, to make jam, to turn into popsicles, or to eat in a frenzy guaranteed to soften bowels and remove teeth enamel, these are the choices of berry season.

“Can I have more berries for snack?”

“You just had some for lunch.”

“But MOOOOMMMMM, its cherry season!”

“Wait, I want strawberries!”

I take a deep breath, you are both right. “Okey dokey, good point. Of course you can. Just not on the couch, and Dragon, if you are going to use the cherry pitter, you have to use that one the counter.”

“Okay Mom.”

“Okay Mom.”

We are gorging ourselves on the literal fruit of the Earth - the sweetness of Mother Nature suffusing our very beings. The Earth’s abundance enfolds our bodies and infuses our souls during berry season. How can I say no to that?

After all, I too continue to strip away my enamel every summer.

I love you two so so much. Thank you for your stained cheeks and foreheads.