Babin and I were having a leisurely wander through our local park yesterday, marvelling at the ducklings and goslings, the sticks on the ground and the park in general, when we noticed a man picking things from a tree. Upon enquiry he told us he was picking 'bird cherries' and handed us some tiny, dark cherries - and ate some himself. They were juicy bursts of tart sweetness and Babin and I both got covered in the purple juice.
Not one to miss out on free food I suggested to Babin that we could pick some, and she began reaching for the tree to do just that.
We didn't have a bag, so I bunched up a muslin, and slung her on my hip (in my very lovely NM Girasol Ringsling) and we merrily picked cherries for half an hour or so in the beautiful sunshine.
At home Babin carefully washed the all cherries, and I washed our pink-stained hands. They were a feast fit for queens as we sat in the paddling pool and ate cherries and spat the stones into the garden to see if we can grow our own tree in 10 years or so!
