Despite being repeatedly foiled in our attempts, we were able to hike for a while yesterday- before turning back because of gunfire. We were almost to the peak of the mountain, but who wants to come over the ridge and encounter a bunch of rednecks with guns- or worse? Getting shot would totally ruin my day.
The trail was lined with huckleberry bushes, and I immediately went into foraging bear mode. Huckleberries taste like summer, like magical moments from childhood, like everything will be alright no matter what.
When we were kids, my crazy dad insisted on having Sunday afternoon “adventure trips”, where we would pile in the car and just head out. Late summer usually meant heading into the mountains, and one summer we found the perfect spot for huckleberries- the big, fat, juicy ones. It was beautiful- the sunlight through the trees, fingers getting stained purple, the sweet taste lingering on the tongue like a kiss from mother nature herself. I’m beyond delighted that I have had these moments, as they make the difficult moments easier to handle.
Love to all
Don’t Talk To Strangers- Rick Springfield
Kiss You All Over- Exile
Come Back And Stay- Paul Young
Oh Sherrie- Steve Perry