berries

The berry farm, Gizditch&rsquo;s, was only u-picking boysenberries. An old woman on her way out met us at the bridge, happy and carrying juice stained containers full of berries with juice stained hands. Between wide smiles she told us that she had picked last week and made a pie and was back again for more. The furthest rows, the back ones, still have the best berries, she said. So, after taring…