Summer's succulence

Lucky me for being able to trade some of my apricots and peaches, grown in Sacramento, for blueberries and blackberries of Rainbow Orchards in Camino.  Their location in the Sierra Foothills, with its hot summer days and cool night air sweeping off the Sierra Nevada, brings forth lush fruit.

The blueberries might be smaller than the ones I grew up eating on the East Coast, but each little indigo nugget explodes with a sweet, rather than tart, taste.

Experts claim correctly the blackberry is not a true berry, due to the small drupelets each unit possesses.  All I can claim is that each one contains a drop of bright sunshine.

On the 45-minute drive home, I pondered how to prepare the blackberries.  A pie or tart, perhaps?  Maybe I would fold them into Greek yogurt with a sprinkle of cinnamon or create a lemon-infused sauce to cover the berries and vanilla  ice cream.

In the end, I went the more traditional route.

I sat under the shade of the apricot and peach trees, with the basket of blackberries and a large glass of ice water.

Slowly, as all things during summer's high heat should be done slowly, I nibbled and sipped.

I believe if more people sought out the succulence of summer, the world would be a better place.