Go wild. It's time. Summer vacation is in full swing at our house. With so much time together, occasionally, Stephen and Aurora get on each others nerves. One day last week, I heard one of the calls of summering children, "Stop it. Give it back. Don't." My reply was, "Please stop arguing. Pack some plastic containers into backpacks and get your bikes. We are going out."

A few years ago Stephen, Aurora, and I hiked to Gillett's Castle. The castle sits on a cliff over looking the Connecticut River. There is a trail that switch-backs up the cliff. All along this trail are wild raspberries. On the day we hiked, the berries were ripe—red, sweet, juicy and delicious. We slowly hiked and ate our way up the trail. It was a great day. Since that day, I keep an eye on the wild raspberries and know when that are ready to be picked and eaten. In our area, it is now.

Stephen and Aurora put containers into their backpacks, got their helmets and bicycles, and were ready to set off. They were also, curious about my plan. The energy in the house was already better. I got on my bike and started up the road. As they followed me, Stephen and Aurora guessed my plan. "We're going to pick raspberries, aren't we?" They know me so well.

We had a lot of fun spotting the patches of raspberries along the road. I'd say, "I think there are raspberries up on the right." Stephen and Aurora biked ahead and found them. They'd jump off their bikes and start eating berries. "Look at this huge patch." "I have a lot over here, too. "The berries are so sweet." "I love them." So much better than the arguing I was listening to earlier.

Eventually, Aurora and Stephen had their fill and start putting raspberries into the containers they brought with them. We didn't bring home many raspberries, enough for Stephen and me to have raspberries and yogurt. Aurora drizzled hers with honey. But I say, "Mission accomplished"—we got some exercise, changed the energy of the house, learned more about the natural cycle of raspberries in our area, and truly enjoyed the fruits of our labor.

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