Mulberries.  Just one word. And it’s a mouthful.

You either know what I am talking about and are drooling right now, or you have the misconception that this is some trashy, messy berry not worth your while.  You could learn the truth from my son and his preschool buddies at their babysitter where a mulberry tree brings joy to all. The stains on the children’s fingertips offer colorful testimony. 

I have a long history with mulberries, growing up with a sprawling specimen in my yard. There were lots of berries in my youth and I would join my friends in a pack as we would search the neighboring park for all sorts of edible berries. Mulberry season came right on the heels of wild strawberries and preceded the raspberries and blackberries and my tree offered a bountiful harvest for all, including my friends, the deer and a huge assortment of birds.

The mulberries are early this year. I usually start looking in mid-june. We try to arrive at the babysitter’s house a little early each school day so that we can spend some time together enjoying the juicy purple berries. I reach overhead for the berries that Emerson can’t reach and he grabs the berries off the low hanging branches. Overhead, the birds are busy - robins, catbirds, waxwings, woodpeckers and more.

The berries are at their peak now. If you sneeze loud enough, the plumpest ripest ones just fall to the ground. Emerson will pick and eat the mulberries with his preschool buddies before lunch and he will do the same after school. But I have the gift of sharing these mulberries with my son at the start of each day. It is a sweetness that lingers throughout my day.

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Morning time - with my windows open, I usually wake before the kids, to the sound of birdsong. Such a sweet cacophony. I rarely rise right away as Michelle has the job of stirring all the children into action. (Thank you Michelle!) The morning routine for parents has its challenges.

Luckily, one of the kids does not need to rush off yet to catch the bus. He is typically the most difficult to rouse in the morn. After the other kids leave, we will eat outside at our picnic table, listening to birdsong and watching the bird families visit our suet feeder.  It is a great way to start the day.

While this is a beautiful part of our day, I think that our day really begins with Emerson’s visit to the backyard garden. Ever since the garden actually started looking like a garden with paths, turned soil and sprouting seeds, Emerson has wanted to visit each morning before we depart.  It is an affirmation that the magic of gardening has cast its spell.

Emerson’s surveys are different each day. Some mornings he helps harvest the spinach for our egg breakfast. Sometimes he looks to see if the rabbit has visited the garden again. Are there any birds visiting? He checks on the growth of all of our plants and watches for the latest seeds to sprout.  Are there any slugs? He is eyeing the broccoli, patiently, and wondering when. And he is looking for insect friends, discovering ladybugs and caterpillars. With morning dew on our feet and fresh air in our lungs, this is truly the way to start the day.

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