Millie and I head out for our morning walk very early on these days that promise to be so warm. As I crunch down the gravel lane, happy corgi at my side; our shadows stretch long in front of us. A neighbor’s new puppy softly howls a sad greeting, morning doves coo and startle at our approach; the pond is still and welcome coolness lingers in the cedar grove. I check on the blackberries in the wild tangle at the roads edge, and share a few with Millie. A few more days and the berries will be hanging in heavy sweet clusters of goodness.
With only a few pots standing in for a garden this year, I find myself tuning in more acutely to the goodness and beauty just there under my nose. Blackberries are destined for our dessert bowls and freezer, wild honeysuckle and pink spirea add color to a small vase on my desk; and clover blossoms, wild rose hips, and chicory root will soon be harvested and added to my growing apothecary. Each day’s walk reveals something new.