up to my knees in the bog

On a beautiful warm fall afternoon I met up with a group of restaurant friends for a leisurely paddle and cranberry harvest. We canoed down a winding marsh to the cranberry bogs. Once there we took our empty yogurt containers and began the picking. The experience reminded me of the book, Blueberries for Sal. One or two cranberries at a time ker-plinking and ker-plunking in my “bucket.” The event was not complete without me falling into a deep mud hole and flooding my wellies within the first few minutes so that I sloshed my way through the rest of the afternoon.

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