oh, the black honey of summer...
As I walked amongst the "plumpy" blackberries (like we like to call them) taking deep breaths of their sweet smell mixed with the recently watered garden dirt. While I filled my mouth with the black honey of summer straight from the sun kissed branches,I watched my little girl happily humming to herself beside me with grandmas colander overflowing and trying to figure out how she could cram just a few more without them rolling off. Just then couldn't help but think of how romance doesn't just die, we let it, oh and how easy that can happen when we are not intentional in finding the beauty and wonder in the simple, monotonous, and humdrum rutine moments in our everyday life that seem meaningless and ordinary but are actually the opposite, those are the moments that we will look back to some day, those are what memories are made of. We are a tad spoiled, I have to admit, by thornless blackberry bushes! What a joy to pick berries without bleeding