A fieldful of berries for the picking. I had always wondered what was behind the tall trees at the end of the street. The other day my brother and I walked to the road's end, turned the corner and found a scene that made me smile one of those warm and relaxed smiles of relief that feel so great. You know the ones?
To my delight, row after row of berries of all sorts stretched out before me. Just steps away from my grandfather's front door, and all this time I had no idea. The only thought I could think of as we walked the dusty paths was thank you. This song played in my head. I needed a spot of my own here. Somewhere to go, to walk, to breathe, to be me by myself - fortunately in the company of some very good berries.
The best time to go is when the berry stand person leaves at 4pm - he leaves the gate open. After 4 it's so quiet there I can hear my feet hit the path.