It was a beautiful Wednesday morning when we drove out several miles into the "rural" areas where the blueberries thrive.
The parking area is across and up the road a bit from the beginning of the trail.
The "sidewalk" on the bridge was metal grating.
If you looked straight down, it looked as if you could fall right through. This disturbed my youngest to the point that she refused to walk on it because she was sure, "the water gonna git me!"
She walked on the concrete unless she had to step down to go around the posts.
We found raspberries along the trail before we hit the blueberry terrain.
"Look Mama, mine walking stick!"
Here is the boardwalk that led us into the woods.
Independence can be so tiring. Thank goodness for grandmas!
These are the biggest, most beautimous blueberries I have ever seen. I love blueberries and acquire them, pictures of them, paintings, or whatever I can. I could, therefore, not resist taking a picture of these before adding them to my bucket.
Picking with children.
"Mommy! Look at these big fatties!!!"
Backcountry feasting
"Look mine gween tongue!" She was fervently hoping that her tongue had turned blue from all the blueberries.
Picking and eating, eating and picking . . .
Grassy lumps are perfect for a mid-picking rest. Just don't think about what is living and crawling in and on them (and you) when you lie down.
Pick. Eat.
Repeat!
Are we done yet mom?
In a minute. Just let me get this one more patch.
We had to stop picking, not for lack of berries, but space in the buckets.
Time to go home!
Say Cheese!
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