Another Field of Blues



When the sun burned off this morning’s cloud cover Aki’s other human and I decided that we had to go berry picking, Even though it was cold, in the low 40’s, and Friday the 13th, we took the canoe out to the glacial lake for a paddle to a part of the moraine covered with low bush blueberry plants.

This late in the season we only had the right to expect a scattering of berries and even those might explode at our touch. Perhaps driven to arrive before all the berries dropped with overripeness, we left the house without food, water, a knife or matches.

A light breeze coming off glacial ice carried away most of the sun’s warmth so we were glad to reach the berry fields, which are protected from the wind by a screen of willows and cottonwoods. There the sun warmed us and highlighted the reds and yellows of autumn leaves.

While her humans drifted in different directions across the berry patch, Aki dashed back and forth between them. Sometimes she harvested her own blues. At first I concentrated on the hunt, happy to find plenty to pick. As my berry bucket, a cut open half gallon soy sauce container, filled, I went on autopilot and left my mind to its cleaning—-disposing of useless or harmful thoughts. With berries and a rejuvenated mind, I joined Aki and the other paddler on a beach of glacier crushed white sand. Across the lake the glacier wound between mountain peaks it carved in earlier times. Above that it was all blue skies.

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