Berry nice. Berry nice.

To me, berries are quintessentially summer.

I spent every summer until I was about fifteen, picking berries with my mum. While she had mastered her craft and would pick bucket upon bucket of salmon berries (roadside), Raspberries (at Bob's), Blueberries (up the mountain), blackberries (roadside and at the Cromie's) and huckleberries (in my front yard), my, 'two for me, one for the bucket' method didn't get me very far and i would give up after about half an hour and just eat what I had. I was not a very productive berry picker.

My mum would freeze the berries so we would have them all year round and she would use them for jams, jellies, smoothies and also Blackberry vinegar which we would add water to, to make juice.

Needless to say, my childhood summers were rife with berries and so when I was walking down Lower Road yesterday and noticed the red and orange of salmon berries poking out from under big green leaves, I got the tingly feeling that I get in my stomach when something reminds me of being a kid, and I stopped in a moment of nostalgic bliss to eat the salmon egg-like (for which they are named) fruits. They were a little bit sour still, but give them a couple days, and they'll be ripe and juicy.

The bears too, seem to have noticed the, almost miraculous, appearance of their favourite snack and are rambling about Roberts Creek eating berries and, of course, garbage.

It's been (unusually) hot and sticky all June (aside from the last couple of days) and yesterday Chanel and I went kayaking to Keats Island, jumped off the government wharf, and then ate sushi and gelato in Lower Gibsons in our wet clothes. Neither of us wanted to go back to the city, to the smog and where we have to put some effort into our appearances.

Sigh.

I have a good feeling about the next couple of months.

Welcome home summer.