From where it is growing.

{Good scenes from December.}

In the curious yellow light of a storm approaching on the first evening of the New Year, I remember berry picking in the sunshine. Berry picking is something akin to an annual tradition of ours, and so it was one day late in December we found ourselves picking cherries and blackberries and raspberries for the Christmas table. A few hours in the hills, bucket in hand, hat atop head and smile drawn across berry-stained lips. In the late afternoon, having lolled for sufficient time under the shade of a tree at the foot of a neat row of cherry trees, boughs still laden, we made for home with all we required. Car boot packed with tasty red fruit, bellies full too.

{May January be filled with such simple adventure light too.}

Here's to a New Year bright and full of promise. To a new decade. To 2010!