Back to the scene of the muskelkater

As we were coming down around 8 in the evening, we resigned ourselves to wishing that we had gotten an earlier start to the day - which says a lot about a couple of pure night owls.

The truth, though, is that no matter what time we started our day of berry picking, we were always going to have wished it could have been longer. This was only made worse by just how gorgeous the evening had become. From one of the muddiest drives out in light rain to magical, golden sunlight.

Berry picking has become a yearly ritual for me these last few. I love having these little bursts of flavour and vitamins stored for the winter. I love the small act of rebellion against our grocery cartels in Canada. But more than all that, I love the solace and the quiet way up and far away. It is the best shared silence, ever.