a love story about summer...

I've been thinking all week about Jone, 
as we picked and cooked and labelled the jars...

She's the one who taught me what it meant to go to the mountains
in Spain
to carry a delicious picnic, and pick and laugh and end up scratched from 
brambles and vine.

Then go home dirty tired to start in the next day 
cooking
 and making a mess
 filling the house with the warm smell of jam.

Now I pick blackberries for jam,
and Tennessee can't wait to taste the first spoonful
and all of this reminds one of how life keeps  living
even though my friend
is now gone...