breakfast and blueberry nostalgia

June 4, 2008 |  Category:   life


>We’ve finished up the last of the blueberries with pancakes this morning. Not many people know that I spent one summer picking blueberries in Maine when I was 19. Not recreational blueberry picking, but seasonal farm labor. It was hard work, way too hard for someone like me with a bad back because the shrubs are low to the ground. You use a special rake to scoop up blueberries from the hardy bushes and deposit them in buckets, so it’s constant bending for many many hours, not to mention carrying heavy buckets when you’re done. I don’t even remember why or how I ended up picking blueberries that summer, but I do remember the vast blueberry fields, a hazy landscape of blue stretching towards the horizon and the heavy sweet scent that lingers in the warm, humid air. During our time, we stayed in a true hobbit house (I am not kidding!), a labyrinth of rooms made out of mud? clay? stone? tucked away in the woods, and swam in the ocean, a rugged coastline of beaches with calm inlets. I haven’t been back to Maine since that summer. I really want to go.

Oh, was I being nostalgic again? Ok, going about my day now…

You Might Also Like