I had never been blueberry picking before. But I understand that our first experience was far from usual. Over 50 years old, the blueberry trees (not bushes) were the size of apple trees! The owner of the small orchard was telling us how it had been passed through the family and lovingly tended over the years. This care was evident and Emma and I gathered bucket after bucket while Alexander trolled the ground, his face competing with his fingers for the most-purple award.
It was a blisteringly hot day, but the avenue of trees kept us in the shade. Nevertheless, after lunch at a nearby park, a babbling brook was a welcome sight and we all plunged in to cool down.