blackberry picking

I just didn’t feel like writing this summer.

When the air is warm on my skin and the sky remains light long into the evening, I prefer to sit outside with a cold drink and a book. My laptop has stayed inside, ignored and forgotten. With Olivier back in Paris, we’ve spent most of the summer making up for lost time, with a few trips to Paris for me and a few to London for him.

Tomorrow I’ll be catching the train to Paris after work and then on Friday morning Olivier and I are flying to southern Spain to enjoy the last of the summer before the autumn nights start to draw in. 

It was a beautiful mild day today, so after work I went out for a walk. Everywhere I looked, I saw ripe, fat blackberries hanging heavily from the brambles. By the time I come back from holiday, they will probably be gone, so I picked a whole boxful to freeze for jam-making when I come home. 

My fingers might be stained purple from blackberry juice, but I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to summer yet.


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