Mmmm, huckleberries, or what I also call wild blueberries…another happy reminder of life at my grandmother’s house that, until a few years ago, sat just a mile or so up the road from where I now live. Yep, the same grandmother I spoke of here and more recently, here.
Before the 70s, her house, along with a handful of others—including the right-next-door home of my grandfather’s brother—were completely surrounded by heavy woods. They were thick with pines, with needles that would turn a rusty color and blanket the forest floor with a cushiony layer. Above, the canopy of treetops was so dense that it practically darkened the woods in a Hansel and Gretel sort of way. Cousins and I, as well as neighborhood kids, would play there for hours…visiting that old woman whose small house sat alone in the middle of the woods…running, screaming and laughing, from the large, barky doberman who lived not far from there…just being kids. Soon we’d emerge from the deep woods, finding ourselves in an open thicket, squinting from the bright sunlight. This is where we’d find the huckleberries…deep blue and plump and warm from the sun, clumped on shin-high shrubs. We’d pick as many as we could hold, not even brushing them clean before gobbling. At the end of our day, stained hands and mouths were all we had to show… .
The huckleberries here were found in Mason District Park, which borders my grandmother’s post-70s neighborhood.








Hmmm…are they good in smoothies?
By the way…the title of this post rhymes with “Huckleberry Hound”…who I’m reminded of whenever I hear the voice of Mike Huckabee…hmmm…I’m gonna go back to thinkin’ about smoothies…
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I’m sure they’d be tasty in a smoothie…if you could gather enough of ‘em. I think they’re a favorite of the birdies.
Ha! My original title was “Huckleberry Hound,” and the rhyme was intentional, but I’m happy to say that Huckabee didn’t even enter my mind…until your comment. Geesh, drjay…now I’m gonna have to think about smoothies, too. Huckabee…ugh.
I’ve never had huckleberries (how can that be), but they look beautiful. And I loved reading your memories, too. Sometimes I’d like to go back to childhood days — as long as I could pick *which* days.
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Jennifer, you may not even notice them in the woods, or if you did, you might not assume they’re edible (like me, a dumb kid!). I have no idea how I knew they were safe to eat!
Glad you liked the memory and, yeah, I know what you mean. A revisit to the best days would be nice.
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You are describing something out of an old movie – times of innocence, long gone. Beautiful photos.
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Thanks, Grace. Yeah, that’s my life…an old movie. Ha! I know what you mean…some of the things we experienced as kids are no more. :o(
What happy memories this recalls! Every summer, while vacationing in the Catskill mountains, my mother and I would go huckleberry picking. Afterwards, she’d turn some into jam and some into a delicious pie.
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Yay! Another huckleberry picker! Wow…jams and pies? You must’ve hit a mother lode! I’m afraid that the birds usually got to a lot of the bushes before we kids did.
What a great childhood memory. That reminds me of the neighborhood I grew up in. We weren’t surrounded by woods but there was a large wooded area behind the houses across the street from us. Sadly the trees have all been cut down and the entire area was turned into subdivisions. It doesn’t look at all the way I remember it as a kid.
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That’s how my grandmother’s neighborhood is now, ann. Most areas are unrecognizable. Amazingly, the house next door (my grandmother’s brother-in-law’s house way back when) is still there as well as another house. My grandmother’s property was rebuilt with a new house. I’m surprised they haven’t been bought out yet.
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