For all the hunters out there, I’m not referring to Bear Camp, Deer or even Turkey Season, though those are important openers, too. The first thing that comes to my mind when thinking about opening day is something I’ve never been to on that glorious first day… a Tiger Baseball game. But for the first time I did partake in the first day of U-pick strawberry season at AJs in Lachine. It was June 16 and my day started early, awakened by God before my alarm clock sounded. It was 47 degrees when I departed at 6:15 a.m. I brought along my heated vest just in case. No need, for by the time I arrived the temperature was comfortable with a basic sweatshirt. I hauled my containers and what I have dubbed my strawberry picking cart (its original intent being to save your back while gardening) to the berry patch.
As I got settled in, it didn’t take long for my mind to wander. Surrounded by the sounds of fellow berry pickers, more noticeably that of children, a flood of memories came back to me. My children accompanied me many times on this same adventure. As I heard siblings arguing in the patch… “Mom, she’s embarrassing me… Mom, he’s not picking, he’s just eating berries,” etc., I couldn’t help but smile. I remember two of my three children filling their mouths instead of their buckets. No surprise there. But the one who inherited the berry picking gene, our eldest, Emily, was a serious berry picker, resisting the urge to sample the goods. And she’s still an avid picker today, passing this joy along to her son, Ellery.
Funny how time is measured in seasons, with berry season holding its own special allure. The sweet treats gleaned are always appreciated and provide a very personal gift to those on the receiving end. But the older I get, the more the other attributes of the season take hold. This has become a generational endeavor. My fond memories of picking berries with my dad, one who would go to all extremes to fill his bucket in hopes of satiating his ever-present need for pie, live on and are recalled as berries softly plunk into my container. Taking this back to another generation is the memories of berry picking with my Grandma Thiede and my Grandma Harrison, both diehards when it came to harvesting this sweetness. It would seem I’ve inherited my love of berry picking from both sides of the family.
As the morning gradually warms, the breeze gently blows, and the sounds of nature surround me, I cannot help but feel blessed. Yes, there will be some work to do when I get home, cleaning berries, making jam, perhaps a pie and a strawberry spinach salad, but that’s okay. I’m sure my mind will wander then, as well, filling my heart with thoughts of the smile these treats will bring to others. God’s goodness abounds, and sometimes it comes in the form of berries.
- Opening Day 2026 - July 14, 2026
- Failure to Launch - July 14, 2026
- I Am the One Percent - July 14, 2026