This morning, I stood at the kitchen counter with a bowl of blueberries we'd just picked, still warm from the sun, dappled with raindrops, still. Deep purple-blue, dusty with that silvery bloom that tells you they came off the bush and went nowhere else first (we are NOT mentioning the many that were sampled while picking. IYKYK). 

Picking blueberries today (the best kind of grocery run)