Ben says that love is when you think of the other person before yourself. Sharing blueberries is an act of love.

Our blueberry season ended a month or more ago. Now our groceries are importing blueberries from up north, which is fine with me since they are much sweeter than ours. My favorites are from Maine. But, I may be biased since I lived there for a few years as a teenager!

In Maine, we would pick the young ferns before the fronds opened up. We called them "fiddleheads" and cooked and served them as a vegetable. My half-sister and I would walk through the woods near her grandfather's farm and harvest fiddleheads. We'd also go into the fields and meadows and pick wild blueberries. We had to be very careful, though, because bears often had the same idea! They love wild blueberries.

Any idea what bird produced that lovely feather?

I love the bluebells - so delicate!