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Location: Dry mountains Eastern WA
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Tonight I opened a jar of huckleberries I had frozen in the heat of the summer.

It’s dark here from 0330 to 0700.  It’s cold at night: 20 degrees F.  We’re going into the even colder and darker time of year.

The huckleberries were fragrant.  Like the heat of the summers day they burst in my mouth with that sweet tangy bright flavor that stops you until you get it all down and are ready for another bite.  

My friend and I drove to the top of a mountain for the berries.  We scrambled up a rocky grade to the flats where Alpine Spruce reigned and thousands of huckleberry and currant bushes flooded the ground.  

We were so overwhelmed we went from bush to bush and only picked the biggest.  Then we sat and ate our sandwiches on a log the size of a bus and watched the dogs chase the ground squirrels.

All that was frozen in the huckleberries I smothered in cream tonight.

Yeah, but is it art? What do you think tiny ad?
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