My father is a hard man to keep up with, and he gets and early start. He awakes at dawn (around 5 AM) gets coffee and walks to a neighboring camp to share it and talk with some other early risers. On the way I usually pick mini strawberries. The huge strore brand type are tempting, but I had preferred to take the family to pick them straight off of the bush at a local farm. Those do not compare to the compact flavor of the tiny wild strawberries which I have been scooping up on almost every walk these last two weeks. Either they have gone by already, or I ate them all, but instead I found some raspberries. Those are also sweet berries for breakfast. In the afternoon I found a blueberry bush (the ground type, not high bush) with green berries on it, but two were blue. I ate them too. My dad’s long-legged stride has made sure we keep ahead of the moose flies, which aren’t prevalent unless we are searching for moose in the bogs near evening, and I haven’t gotten as fat as a bear eating berries – yet.