Sweet

So yesterday we sat on the rocks and picked blueberries like we do every year. Enough for orange blueberry muffins, pancakes next weekend and a few cups to freeze for later. We talked all the while. About the usual. Birds, bees, bugs. All hands. In and out of ice cream pails. And then I spilled. Ideas, plans. On and on, filling my mouth as I went. The words came out tart and wild. No bear in its right mind would go anywhere near that kind of talk.