The air today felt like we were near the shore. It could have been Maine, California, or Long Island, New York. Warren and I went a mile down the road to share a meal with friends. Then we wandered out to their blueberry patch to pick at dusk. I felt a bit like Sal in the children’s book, Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey, by putting one berry in my bucket for every three that I ate while my friend focused on picking efficiently. It was fun to be the child.
“her mother walked slowly through the bushes, picking blueberries as she went and putting them in her pail. Little Sal struggled along behind, picking blueberries and eating every single one.”
–Robert McCloskey, from Blueberries for Sal, Viking Books, 1948