Just the right size for tiny hands…is there anything better than this bowl of juicy sweet cherries?Well maybe a bowlful by the seaside. Since we are nowhere near rolling waves and grainy sand, we’ll share our summer prizes near our poolside underneath leafy canopies and the song of the flowing water below. Not the kind where you can chase and run through, this one trickles unless a torrential down pour occurs and then heavenly water gushes over the tumbled stones at the bottom of the stream. The last few days the sun quenched its thirst and those stones look like a sculpture with hardly a dribble.Baby bear can’t get enough of crimson berries so we set our gaze on the smooth stones, breathing deeply the fresh open air to nibble on various berries. There was a time where she didn’t discriminate and she loved even the blackberries and blueberries, but these days it’s just the red ones. Raspberries are carefully placed onto fingertips and eaten one by one, and strawberries are tossed into a bowl whole…no need to slice she gobbles them up before I get a chance.I thought I try these purple cherries very close in hue to its cerise cousin, especially when touched by rays of sunshine. They were a hit indeed and the task of pitting was mastered by her tiny hands tout de suite.
Can they be eaten any other way than with water nearby?It’s no wonder these little sweeties are summer treasures, ones to be eaten without garments without a worry or woe of blemishing our summer wears. I make a note to try dying eggs for Easter with smashed cherries. A plunge into water and then out again to feast from our tiny bowl.Soon enough the last morsel is gobbled up. In between her wide half-moon smile, are specks of crimson and cherry red lips…is there anything sweeter than this smile? It is for now the perfect summer. Perched three fourths of the way up the tree is a woodpecker. The mud is thick and cool to our bare feet as we amble back to get a closer glimpse. It’s always soggy back here, even when the sun soaks up most of the water from the creek below far off rain clouds gather and douse us again. Baby bear repeats her latest tune, “rain, rain go away…” I don’t mind the drops one bit, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my daily swim in this dreamy and wild place I call home.The late afternoon breeze carries the shouts of children, if I could see them I would invite them up for a cherry or two. Because what good is a tiny bowl if we can’t share it with friends.