The canines didn't wake the humans for the breakfast feeding until 8 a.m.--that's the latest since Ruth came to live with us.
It was a morning of grey skies and thunder and blowing wind. Soon a blasting thunderstorm had us dashing round the cottage closing windows to keep the rain out. Then it subsided. Then it started up again.
During a break in the rain, I decided to hasten up to the ridge to pick berries. So I did.
The berry farm had been closed since Friday, for ripening.
I had the place to myself, apart from an older couple gathering raspberries for jelly. The working conditions were very pleasant--not hot, no bugs. Once or twice the sun peeked through the clouds. Once or twice I heard thunder rumbling over the mountain--an incentive to pick faster!
The berries were heavy and ripe, screaming to be picked.
They were practically leaping into my punnet, so it didn't take me very long to fill four of them.
On my way home, I paused to watch the storms breaking over the mountains.
This is practically the same shot from yesterday, in precisely the same location.
My Chap was just sitting down to lunch when I returned. We sampled the berries immediately and pronounced them utterly delicious!