It was a rainy day in late July. We were driving through British Colombia on our way back from Alaska two summers ago. The forested scene around us was lush and green. We were listening to a book on tape and taking in all the shades of green washed in a fresh downpour. We turned a corner and were met with a shocking hillside of red splashes against the green. Thimbleberries, Jack told me. He said they taste ok – a little grainy. We pulled over, donned our rain gear and headed out armed with empty cups.

The first one I picked fell apart in my hand. I tasted it. Wow! Sweet berry with a smooth seedless texture. They were beautiful. Fire engine red specks begging to be harvested. I picked and ate until my cup was full and I was soaked. These beautiful fragile berries were meant to be eaten right off the bush. My cup of harvested berries looked like a smoothie in no time at all.

Something about the combination of the lush drenched green and fresh picked berries found in the middle of a terrific drive…what a great memory.