Dewberry Discovery
The other evening my sister and I discovered there is a Great Horned Owl in the countryside near us. We've been watching him watch us from a dead branch in the top of a big old pecan tree. He's just far enough to be out of reach of our longest lenses but close enough to hear his hoot clearly as he softly inquires about our day. While lurking on the road side watching him we discovered a patch of dewberries that had been growing for who knows how long just inside of the fence line and along the irrigation ditch of the field east of the house. We vowed to return in daylight and investigate. Above you see the results. What you don't see are my purple, juice stained fingers from the picking process. What you don't see, thank goodness, is our "go away snakey snakey" stomp dance we performed as we made our way through the overgrown field to the even more overgrown brambles. What you don't see is the silly grin on my face at the joy of eating the berries straight off the vines. The enforced quietude has brought many small blessing. The owl, the berries, gardens growing, extra time spent with my favorite sister. They color my experience of this quiet slow time like the sweet, sharp dewberries stain my picking fingers. Making everything better.
Be well friends,
Kim
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