It seems fruit picking is the order of this summer.
First there were the blackberries and then the figs, now it’s time for blueberries.

Recently spent a rainy morning at Eastfields Farms. A hidden gem in Mathews County. I believe it was their last weekend of picking, which was hard to believe with how full the bushes were. We picked two gallons for a mere $18 (which might both sound expensive and like an insane amount of blueberries, but if you factor an organic pint at the store being about $4…. that’s $64 worth of blueberries… and now the freezer is stocked for smoothies and pies!)

It is such a primal and satisfying thing, picking your own food straight from the bush or tree that it grew on.
I swear the fruit I’ve picked this year with my own hands has tasted like the best I’ve ever had. And perhaps that is some amount of imbued romanticism at the practice of it all, but I think there is something good and natural about that too that connects to our souls on a deeper level.

(Although my Dad said these tasted like the best blueberries he’d ever had, and he had nothing to do with the picking of them so… interpret as you will.)

Grateful to live in a place with such an abundance of natural bounty…
I suppose apples are next?
Virginia, I do love you so.