For The Love Of Blueberries Poem by Raymond Farrell

It was a warm fall day
My father in law and I
Were fishing on Bottle Lake
An isolated lake
In the north end of the county
Miles of uninhabited bush
Stood between the lake
And the nearest county road
We had hiked in the 3 miles
Taken up our positions
And sat chatting as our lines
Dangled in the still waters
Not much was biting
Then lunch rolled around
And a patch of blueberries
Straddling the crest
Of the nearby hill
Looked like the ideal spot
To pick our dessert
With plastic bowl in hand
I worked my way up
The north side of the patch
Picking the blueberries
Just as I crested the hill
I met a black bear
Who'd been working his way
Up the south side of the patch
We exchanged a brief glance
And then went down the hill
In the direction we had come up
I don't know about the bear
But I was on the dead run.