As I sit curled up under a fuzzy blanket, a draft of cold air whistling through my window, my mind couldn't help but turn wistfully to summer. I've been dreaming of gardens lately and wondering when is too early to start drawing up a plan for my own little potager.
But since I haven't even secured a spot in Toronto's allotment gardens (as I plan to do), I thought I'd put my energies to use by reminiscing about summer and posting several pictures of sun-soaked fruit.
No writer does more justice to the bounty of nature than Henry David Thoreau, who documented the growth of everything around him in Wild Fruits. And so I turn to him for the words to accompany the pictures.
On wild raspberries:
On wild fruits in general:
"Most of us are still related to our native fields as the navigator to undiscovered islands in the sea. We can any afternoon discover a new fruit there which will surprise us by its beauty or sweetness."