My son and I enjoyed our first harvest of blueberries this morning.
We had been picking one or two off of the plants in our backyard, testing them for ripeness. But with a busy weekend, we hadn't surveyed the crop for several days.
When I realized I had no fresh fruit in the house for breakfast, I headed out into the backyard with bowl in hand. If not yet blueberries, I can always pick more of my alpine strawberries, I thought.
Thirty plump, ripe berrries were waiting. They were delicious.
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