On the cusp of summer and autumn, around the equinox, we always search the mountain muskegs for lingon berries. Aki generally finds these expeditions to be boring. Today’s search for the wine-red berries is no exception.
It is not raining but last night’s downpour has loaded down the muskeg plants with water. Soon the little dog is soaked. Because her other human I are moving slowing, she has to do a lot of standing around. Soon, she is shivering. But she doesn’t whine.
Watching me plop lingon berries in my picking bucket, Aki nuzzles my hand, like she does when she wants a treat. I pick a half-a-dozen more berries and offer them to the little dog. She eats them out of the palm of my hand and asks for more.
Eat time I fill my palm with berries she eats them, like a horse eats oats from a wrangler’s hand. Since Lingon berries are as tart as blueberries are sweet, I am surprised that Aki likes them.