Cobbler

“If you come to a fork in the road, take it” — Yogi Berra

Yesterday I picked blackberries for a cobbler. A record setting heat wave dominates the local news. I didn’t get out to the berry patch as early as I would have liked and the heat was a constant companion under the insistent sun.

I almost didn’t go. I prepared to leave; choosing the proper shoes, picking a hat, finding the sunscreen. Somewhere in those tasks I received a phone call and I wandered onto the front porch during the course of the call. The heat on the porch was overwhelming. My house is surrounded by a pine forest and is always several degrees cooler than the official temperatures nearby. If it is hot on the porch it is dangerous to venture out where the sun can pin you down.

I almost didn’t go but I knew if didn’t I would regret it. Given the choice of suffering either the heat or the regret I grabbed my hat, my fruit basket, and my determination. I needed all three.

The berry vines were covered with berries damaged by the sun, reminding me of what my body was enduring with a constant parade of shriveled dried fruit in front of me. But not all of the fruit was spoiled. There were still a lot of plump juicy berries perfect for the cobbler.

I moved from row to row, gradually adding berries to the basket. After some time I got better at finding the best berries and after I noticed I had more than enough for the cobbler I still found myself picking berries.

Finally I stood up, looked at my harvest, and felt the sun. In an instant I had enough blackberries and I had had enough of the heat.

With the help of my wife the cobbler was spectacular. It had all of the right ingredients folded in and was topped with ice cream. I am deliriously happy I picked the cobbler over regret.