...Imagine a country where 17% of the ground coverage is wild blueberries.
...Imagine a summer sky and a sea so blue that it becomes difficult to determine where the blueberries end and the scenery begins.
...Imagine buckets and buckets of tiny antioxident wonders in pancakes ...pies ...muffins
and tarts.
I close my eyes and see nothing but a mass of blue. My fingers are permanently purple. My back, rounded as a tortoise I once tried to train, and if I tried to quickly stand up straight, I'm certain I'd fracture several vertebrae.
And no matter how long it's been since the sun and moon exchanged places in the sky, I can't seem to stop picking.
I'm told it's a condition that strikes
unsavy animal trainers every July here in Sweden. This year, I tried to counter-act my harvesting compulsion by bringing my son along to utter verbal reality checks every hour, on the hour. It helped somewhat, but there always seemed to be one last "perfect" berry that just had to be plucked.
unsavy animal trainers every July here in Sweden. This year, I tried to counter-act my harvesting compulsion by bringing my son along to utter verbal reality checks every hour, on the hour. It helped somewhat, but there always seemed to be one last "perfect" berry that just had to be plucked.
After sketching the nearby artist's cottage, and monitoring my progress over the course of several hours, my son finally got my attention. Even with my head in the bushes, I heard the smultron cider cork pop, and the sound of the cool, bubbling brew filling two glasses.
Lesson Learned
Summer in Sweden is bewitching
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The tiny 'smultrons' If 17% of Sweden's ground-cover also contained these, I'd be dead by now! |
