A Summer Tradition

There is a different pace in Summer.

Different traditions.

Picking berries is one of mine

and the rewards are so worth it.

The view from the berry patch.
Mt. Hood is in the distance.
This day we were picking marionberries,
a berry particularly unique to the Pacific Northwest.

For an Old Woman Picking Wild Blackberries       by Ethel Romig Fuller

There always will be clusters left

Where someone first has been-

What if the children did pick here?

They broke the bushes in.

Take your time, old woman,

It is youth that hurries

To the next alluring patch;

Youth takes the easy berries.

The hidden fruit, the luscious fruit

Waits for one who lingers;

For one with peering, patient eyes,

With slow, exploring fingers.

And ripening on berry vines

Is always something too

No child will be discovering

Till he is old as you.