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“
It is late afternoon, darkness is falling and a stall in the town square is glowing like a candle. Tiny punnets of bright-orange berries on the twig-- sea buckthorn-- and jars of cloudberry jam jostle with honey and crimson lingonberries. I will not carry jars or bottles in my luggage, but I pick up a couple of cartons of berries to eat raw.
Buckthorn lives true to its name, and after a few minutes of parting the berries from their branches my thumb feels like a pincushion. I pick up a pocket-si
...more
”
― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
“
We are batting away the pesky wasps that have come to take a dip in the jams-- apricot, fig, mulberry, rose-- that sit shimmering in pressed-glass dishes in the sunshine. We sit in the shade of a mulberry tree overlooking a field of damask rose bushes and sumac trees.
”
― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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