the weather turned milder and we spent our afternoon at the blueberry patch. the wooden windmills to keep birds at bay sounded like ice cubes clinking in a glass and we could hear the wind make waves in the cornfield next to us.
back in the car and the cd had left the song in the most perfect spot, like a choir accompanying us along the laneway out. with 25 pounds of blueberries in the trunk. a good day.

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