While you are sleeping

I grab a bucket and trek to the east-facing fence rows where the wild raspberries grow.

It's the first picking of the year, and, thanks to normal temperatures and rainfall, they are juicy and large, at least for wild raspberries.

As I pick, I think about bears, and how many raspberries they must eat to satisfy their hunger. Of course, that's a question for my Alaska friends since there are no bears competing for berries in western Ohio.

The birds, though, like the berries, and they are quite vocal as I pick in the early morning hours.

"Don't worry. I'll leave you plenty," I say, for I know some berries, hiding behind leaves, will escape my notice. Others, I leave because I don't want to bushwhack through the brambles.

During the first picking of the year, there are no paths created by human berry pickers. I do find spots where deer have nested.

Berry picking is a slow progress that leaves me with purple-stained fingers, sweating, and scratched. While the bug repellent keeps the mosquitoes from biting, it doesn't stop their buzzing.

I find that buzzing more annoying than the garter snake that slips over my boot and into the brambles.