Picture Story

Ma’s Berry Patch

When I bought my first house one of my favorite things I liked about the place was that it had its own berry patch.

Growing up my mother always took us berry picking every summer. We’d save our old ice cream buckets, pack a lunch in the old Coleman cooler, and set out down an old dirt road in search of the berry patch. Half-way there someone would inconveniently remember that we had forgotten the almighty bug dope, but no one would care because we got to pick and eat berries in the sunshine all day, right? After what seemed like an eternity of dusty, windy dirt road ma would proclaim “Now I bet there’s berries in that spot” and we’d stumble over each other, racing to the berry patch only to discover that there were indeed plenty of berries but we’d forgotten our buckets back at the truck. Not to worry though, looking back towards the truck we could see mom would be halfway to our spot carrying all the buckets. These were some of my fondest memories of my childhood; spending sunny days outside with my mom picking berries.

Now that I have two of my own children one of their favorite things to do is make a picnic outside in the lawn by the berry patch. On sunny days in July when the strawberries glisten in the sunlight and start to ripen we make a daily pilgrimage out to the berry patch with our berry bowl to see how many are fat and red and ready to eat. We sit in the sun on a blanket, pick berries and the kids fight over the biggest berries to eat. When all the berries are picked and eaten we play outside until dad comes home and try to find a few unpicked berries to share with him. We’re a happy family in ma’s berry patch.