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Thomas Landers Road

I was suffering.  The October weather was relentlessly good.  This morning was forecast cloud and rain, which made me feel easier that my friend Ida was coming to print in the studio.  Maybe I would be able to sit still in front of the computer while the berries bounced in the beaters.

But it was impossible.  The sun was shining, not a raindrop in sight, so as Ida arrived I urged on her a chance to see the harvest, we went to get her camera and tripod and off we went to Thomas Landers Road.

There we found a basin of berries in the light.  Always light, wherever you turned, light.  Overhead, clouds billowing light floated over this clearing in the woods for the berry plants to look up to the light give us these sparkling spaces to wander in, with little pink flags marking the boundaries, with men dragging booms, pushing berries to the suction, men upright on their berry beaters floating through the pools it seems, but rooted to the earth, upending the marker stakes, thrusting them back to mark the next sweep, cars parking and spilling people to touch this marvel from their past, water spilling out of the truck and flowing back into the pool,  gleaming light, reflecting light, spilling light, glowing berries red in the light light light.