Last Berries of Summer

Everywhere I look it seems the produce of autumn beckons: local orchards boast no fewer than twenty varieties of apples and rows of vibrant orange pumpkins stand guard at every store and farm stand.

Before surrendering to the luscious fall baking of apple pies and pumpkin cheesecakes, I had one last appointment with the remaining berries of summer. They were waiting in my freezer, as if suspended in time, their sweet perfection having been frozen at their peak. A handful of blackberries from our own bushes that we had gathered before the deer finished them off; raspberries, a gift from friends who had picked them one August afternoon; blueberries from a Saturday morning trip to the farmer’s market — all frozen memories of the vanished summer.

This weekend, I combined those berries for one last taste of summer in a pie that we shared with friends. And today, a single piece remains. By tomorrow, it will be a memory, and a bushel of apples will take its place in my kitchen with all the promise of autumn.