My summertime rite of passage? Picking buckets of berries (with bears).
by Noah Davis
Jun 20, 2024
2 minutes
I have enough self-confidence, or delusion, to believe that whatever world I find after this one will be pleasant. And in my dreaming, I envision I’m welcomed into what an Irish poet long ago called a “bee-loud glade,” with a bowl of vanilla-bean ice cream covered in blackcap raspberries. The dark fruit will hold just enough midsummer sun to soften the frozen scoops, and my teeth won’t
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