Juneberry Thoughts

One of the advantages of living on the mountain
is the panoramas that spread out when we drive to the valleys.
Last month
Bennetts Valley was spectacular
with hundreds of juneberry trees in blossom.  
Amelanchior is known by a number of names:
saskatoon
is the native name
and was a major ingredient in pemmican,
shadbush
because it flowers when shad spawns,
serviceberry
because two centuries ago
the berries were ripe
when the many wedding services were performed
by the circuit-riding preacher.
  
About ten years ago
Den planted our three bushes,
and this year the conditions were perfect for fruiting.
Last week
the berries were pink,
Wednesday
they were darkening to a perfect ripeness...
and Thursday night the bear came.
Branch tips were stripped
by his bite-and-pull method of eating
and a big branch was broken on the ground.
Friday morning
the grandgirls and I discovered the damage.
Anna was a bit sad
that the bear damaged the bush,
but Lucy was thrilled
that so many berries
were now within her reach.
She ate them indiscriminately
until she discovered
that green ones were not good.
The next hour
was spent devouring
Hundreds of Delicious Berries.
Crevasses in the stones in the wall
became temporary bowls.
While Anna braved
the wiggly stones in the wall
to reach higher branches,
Lucy took Bop a fistful of berries,
which somehow became
half a fistful of berries.
Bop graciously accepted the gift
and then immediately gave it back to her,
Lucy 's cheeks almost burst with enthusiasm.

This morning the girls are back home
and more branches are broken.
Luckily the weather is perfect:
nice breeze,
relatively low humidity,
great for beating the bear to the remainder of the fruit.
I gently bend the branches
to reach the higher berries--
not too hard
or I will break the remaining branches.
I pick the ripest maroon berries
and the darker reds
and listen to them ping into the bowl.
When I release the branch,
the remaining reds look riper than the pinks
and I wonder if perhaps I should pick them as well.
As I work, I think of spectrums--
the spectrum of juneberry ripeness
with greens not ready and some purples overripe,
and the spectrum of branch brittleness
as I want branches to bend but not break.
In the spectrum of house cleanliness,
our house has dust bunnies
and the occasional dust possum
but the Center for Disease Control hasn't visited yet.
In the political spectrum,
I am easily swayed
by both Rebublicans
and Democrats.
Then there is the spectrum of attention given to children....
I think that the middle is usually a good place to be.
Colson Blakeslee,
our first family physician,
advised "Everything in moderation."
I like that.
I eat low-fat cottage cheese and butter,
carrots and bacon.
I use store-bought pie crust
and homemade filling.

I think I'll go make a juneberry pie.

Seedy deliciousness

Anna and Lucy juneberrying

The "bowl" isn't empty yet

Saturday's task