Last week I enjoyed the delicious taste of mulberries, but this week my very favorite wild berries are ripening. In the middle of a hot and sweaty three-mile jog this morning, I stopped to pick wild black raspberries, filling my half-empty water bottle with the luscious little fruits. Most of the berries on the vines were still red, but quite a few were dark enough to pluck and bring home. I figured that I had burned a lot of calories out there in that humidity, so after the run, I rewarded myself with a sweet muffin topped with some of those berries and a dollop of sugary sour cream. Joggin' and pickin' go well together. Hey, at my age, I need some delicious incentives to get me out there on the road, stomping that asphalt and pounding that dirt. I stay off of the concrete, because my knees are still good, and I want them to stay that way. Besides, you can't find berries along concrete. Slip on your running shoes and head for the countryside. It's healthful; it's invigorating; it's the berries!
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