One of our favorite books is Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey. Our “mountain” was more like a path flanked by corn and blueberry bushes. And I hope there were no bears nearby.
But we managed to pick ourselves a little bucket of the fat juicy berries.
We didn’t happen upon any bear cubs, but we did make a few critter friends.
After we weighed our berries, we slipped the money in an ancient lock box and took a look around the old barn. Our friends pointed out that the beams were hand-hewn.
We can’t wait to go picking again next year, just like Sal.