Lisa Bondurant

My photo
I spend my time raising kids, gathering eggs, cutting wood, scoping out trees for tapping, making syrup in the last days of winter, watching my garden NOT grow in the summer, writing, wishing that there were more hours on the clock for sleeping.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Beneath These Same Blue Skies

Beneath these same blue skies, to the foot of these same blue mountains...

...a thousand years ago the first people traveled to harvest the wild sweet potato from the earth they called the  daughter of the stars. The sweet potatoes are long gone, the daughter of the stars is still here and the daughters of the first people still walk towards her blue mountains.
 So with small warm hands clutched to mine, I brought my daughters back to stand beneath these same blue skies and blue mountains to harvest from the earth.  Back to harvest as their ancestors did, not sweet potatoes, but blueberries.

Perfect rows of cultivated bushes 

Far larger then the wild blueberry that grows on our mountain.

Perfect for sitting beneath in dappled shade... 
...and eating till your heart is happy and your tummy full. 

...for games of chase in shady rows.
The bushes hang full though and soon the players are distracted and back to eating

I helped prune these bushes 20 years ago and they came just to my knee, now they tower over my head.

The boxes fill too quickly 

 ...and it is soon time to head back to our mountain where the wild blueberries still wait to ripen beneath the high canopy of forest giants.

While we wait for those tiny wild cousins...

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