The grape harvest had happened, truckloads of deeply fragrant Concord grapes already on their way to become juice and jam. But my friend Vera said, “There are loads of grapes still left on the vines!” With permission from the vineyard’s owners, off we went to glean the field, baskets and clippers in hand. Within an hour, our feet wet from the long grasses, backs warmed in the late afternoon sun, fingers and lips stained from the grapes we’d eaten on the spot, we had gathered all we could carry. Continue Reading…
