Summer Berries
Every couple of years raspberry bushes would spread to nearly overtake the entire garden. As we were laser-focused on our “berry” important mission, Grandpa would come, seemingly out of nowhere, and fuss “get out of my raspberries”, then chuckle as kids scattered, chipmunk cheeks full of the sweet summer treat.
Today, happening upon a patch of wild berries is like finding hidden treasure. When we saw this little berry bush, our first impulse was to pick it clean before one of the resident bear could get there.
Then memories started rushing forward. Sneaking into Grandpa’s garden on a hot summer day. Fighting thorns and swatting bees to get to the juicy prizes. Stuffing our mouths and pockets full of fresh, warm raspberries until we couldn’t tell berry stains from thorn scratches. Picking seeds out of our teeth so that nobody would know what we had been up to, or so we believed. Never suspected that we were being watched with amusement from a window until somebody decided we’d had enough.
It seemed like such a big deal to a kid. In fact it must have been, since just the sight of wild berries evoked such strong memories from way deep in the past.
So first, to pay homage to the memory of Grandpa’s raspberry patch, this little berry bush got its picture taken. And thus was created a lasting reminder of hot summer days eating fresh, warm, sweet-tart raspberries.
Then these two big kids picked those stems clean, and that fruit was so sweet!
A peek into my summer memories growing up in Michigan.
Hi Trish, very well written and writing does compel you to bring back memories anyone had with their Grandparents. I sincerely hope people who read, appreciate this, especially our millinialls. (I hope i spelled it right)
We didn’t have a care in the world then. Many of today’s children are missing a blessed time in their lives, as they are rushed into being young adults. It saddens me. I am grateful, however, for your sharing your memory and awakening some of my own in me. ❤