The Post in Which We Berry Pick

There is just something about them. 

When you pick them,

they are sweeter and are savored a bit more. 

Picking plump, red berries is the sweetest of spring traditions. 

Giving the girls the opportunity to see fruit growing
on the vine is so important to me.

It is part of teaching them to be in awe of nature,

to appreciate the seasons, and to eat well. 

Our bountiful bowl of berries is long gone. 

To pick berries and then not have strawberry shortcake
would have been an injustice. 

Gone to Be Lovely

 Spring has lured us out.

 The indoors seem much less inviting when your yard
is an explosion of blooms. 

The trees have become "clubhouses"

and climbing is the new activity of choice. 

("Claire, I see your pretty teeth. 
Can you show me your pretty eyes too?")

It is time to make room for climbing. 

For caterpillars in buckets and hours of sweaty playing
in the afternoon sun. 

And you — what of your rushed
and useful life? Imagine setting it all down —
papers, plans, appointments, everything —
leaving only a note:
"Gone to the fields to be lovely.
Be back when I’m through with blooming."

~Lynn Ungar

Pick Your Heart Out

Last year's strawberry picking ranks among our favorite memories.  It was a day that was talked about for months after.  It won a place on our "You'll Be Sorry if You Don't..." list. 
This year, I had two little fellow pickers.  

When we heard the berries were ripe, we grabbed our baskets and headed out.  The morning was cool and the berries were plump.

Finding the perfect berries takes discerment, and our littles have it.  

No mushy or green fruit was making it into our baskets. 

For most of the morning, I saw this...

Two girls engaged in nature.  Caught up in the magic of sweet fruit dangling bright, free for the picking. 

It wasn't long before our baskets overflowed.

With our purpose fullfilled, we could have loaded back into the car.  Instead, we lingered.  Afterall, there were wildflowers.

So, we sat among the rows of fruit and made long chains.

Allowed to be still, imaginations took over.  

Eventually, we wandered back to the mini with happy hearts and
happier bellies.

This year's harvest is officially the sweetest ever.  We've been poppin' those babies into our mouths all day!  Of course, we also felt obliged to bake up a little angel food cake to properly accompany them.  It was the right thing to do. 

We'll remember these strawberry fields...forever. 

We Break for Wildflowers

Wildflowers are some serious business in our world right now.  When we hike, we collect bundles of them. When we go to a park, we seek them. When we are driving and we spot them, we sometimes pull over for them.   When we are walking into the zoo, library, or dry cleaner, we detour for wildflowers.  Sometimes there are fields full.  Sometimes it is a single dandelion sprouting through pavement.

It doesn't really make sense to pick them.  More times than not, they wilt long before they make it into a vase.  The endless picking of them makes hikes not quite such good exercise.  Stopping for them makes errands take that much longer. 

Still, we stop.  We pick. 

Daughters' hands give them, and momma's hands accept them with a smile.  A little piece of momentary beauty given. 
God's creativity held in the palm of your hand. 

How much longer will these blossoms bloom? 
How much longer will picking them bring such joy? 
Further, can those of us who have long sense stopped picking bundles, start again?

For this season, we choose to break for wildflowers.  To watch in wonder at the joy they bring.  Though wildflowers are everywhere, they are easy to miss, aren't they?
(Forgive the blur.  Just thought this photo was precious!)

The busyness and drama of the world can keep us from going below the surface of the very moments that we enter.  In my life, I have known truth and beauty and peace to be ever-present companions that I often sit beside, bemoaning their absence.
~Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk

Made Small in a Garden

This Earth Day, we were given a gift.

A morning spent long in a local garden. The air was cool and the ground damp from a night of heavy rain.  The weather brought hesitation,

but thankfully, it was
decided that the wet night might have made it that much more peaceful. 

This was garden time for preschoolers. 

Truly, who might appreciate it more? 

  A story was read and earthworms investigated.  

Little shovels broke ground and gave life to a young tree about their age.   

We wondered what it might grow to look like someday.  Fortunately, farther down the path, was that same type of tree, with thirty years worth of life behind it. 

Under the trees and among the art, we felt small. 

Reminded that we are not the center of things.  

Some pieces of artwork called for a second, closer look.

When group time ended, we three wandered further along.

In awe of the eruption of color among the damp leaves and lofty trees.   

When we made it back to the newly planted tree, we were certain that it had already grown...just a bit. 

Every now and then, we stopped to investigate found treasures,

and to see from a new vantage point. 

We smelled flowers,

and wandered down meandering gravel paths,

not sure what we might see around the next bend.

Trusting that the next view was likely to be just as magical as the last. 

Sometimes though, we just sat still 

and let our giggles wash over us. 

"Keep your sense of proportion by regularly, preferably daily,

visiting the natural world." ~ Catlin Matthews

Workin' At the Carwash

Ah, spring...long awaited sunshine, the returning of green,  bright blossoms and pollen.  In our area, yellow pollen falls like snow, and it is mighty hard to keep your wheels clean. 

The need for extra car washing is a sure sign that this new season has declared game on!  We might be sneezing the whole time, but will not be deterred.

When we decided to suds up the transportation, Claire was, well, willing to get in there and get her whole body drenched hands dirty. 

A little friend came out of his grassy hang out to see what all the sudsy water was for.  Amidst squeals of excitement, twenty little fingers investigated.