July 3, Friday - Picking Blueberries

Necessary preparations include long-sleeved shirt, straw hat, sun lotion and water bottle. U-Pick-It farmer gives me two plastic gallon buckets with smiling instructions to pick all the purple from each bush that I start. I agree to his conditions.

Row on row of person-sized, evenly spaced berry bushes with wide newly mowed grass paths between the rows. At eight-thirty AM the sun, already warm, casts a west-sided shadow beside each bush. Two straw-hatted, early bird ladies already picking on the far end, voices barely audible. Snatches of conversation drift through the clear morning air, "good-old boy", "even he voted for Obama". Choose a row far from the talkers. Fingers move haltingly at first seeking the plumpest, most purple delights nestled among the unripe green berries. Notice the flawless blue sky, the still air, the creeping heat. Berries plunk! plunk! plunk! on the bottom of the plastic bucket.

Listen to birds singing and some noisy black birds stealing berries farther down the row. Sit down cross-legged in the grass to pick the lower berries. Bend, squat, stand, bend, squat, sit. Send out a little prayer for a cloud. Then notice that it probably isn't going to happen in such a clear sky. Change prayer request to a pleasant breeze. A little cool breeze passes by touching my face. Smile.

Endless picking, newly discovering that blueberries are quite small. There are thousands in a gallon. First bucket finally full. No, it can hold a few more. Fifteen minutes later, now it is full! Return to the car with over-flowing bucket of berries. Think about leaving. Then think about blueberries for breakfast all through the long winter. Decide to stay. Return to berry bushes with water bottle in hand.

Ten O'clock, shadows beside the bushes getting smaller, sun heating up. No birds singing just more squawks from the thieving black birds down the line. Suddenly remember that I have not yet tasted the berries. Internal conversation, "is it OK to eat the berries while I pick them?" Decide that everyone would do this so it must be OK. Pop a couple of the smaller ones into my mouth, saving the big ones for winter of course. Yum! There is nothing like the taste of blueberry. Memory of camping with my kids in Michigan and picking wild blueberries for our breakfast. Nostalgic for the days of camping with the kids.

Feeling a little heat sick. Picking more while sitting down and looking for that shrinking shadow next to each bush. Developing pride in "my" beautiful blueberries. After all this work do I really have to pay for them too? Think suddenly about migrant workers, all the people who pick our fruits and vegetables so that we can go into air-conditioned stores and buy them. There's so much we don't know about every piece of food we eat. It must be really hard work to pick in the heat day after day for hours on end. Vow to learn more about where my food comes from and be more aware of what I am buying at the store.

Return with my two full buckets to the farmer. We have a really fine conversation about the rewards and trials of small farmers. He tells me how he likes to try growing heirloom plants and unusual varieties but that it is hard to sell them at the Farmer's Market in Harrison because most people want the standard variety they know from the super market. He grew a great Austrian variety of pink eggplant last year but everyone asked for the purple kind they were used to. He said the pink variety was sweet and tender with skin that did not get tough. We talked about possible ways to educate folks about new varieties, maybe with recipes or even clandestinely slipping something new into their bag to see if they would try it and come back for more the next week. We conclude that America's food production and consumption is in a sorry state and that the work he is doing as a small local grower is very important. I pay for my berries and both of us seem quite satisfied with our morning.

Cloudless sky, bright sun,
blueberries hide from busy fingers.
Heart discovers the juice.

To learn more about our food and buying local check out some of these great sites:

LOCAL HARVEST where you can find a list of local growers near you

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and family

Small Planet Institute with Frances Moore Lappe and Anna Lappe

FOOD FIRST - Institute for Food and Development Policy