When a photographer visits a blueberry farm
This year I have committed to spending Saturdays broadening my horizons. Whether its a hike or day trip, I believe that time adequately spent doing activities outside of the realms of my study is necessary to keep my sanity. Especially as time is drawing closer to the completion of my thesis.
My adventures brought me to Blue Acres Blueberry Farm. During the summer, it's quite popular for farms to offer BYO picking for the opportunity to buy fresh fruit as well as share the experience with family and friends. This can range from strawberries to peaches and although not common to the Caribbean, carries similar significance to that of your neighbour bringing you a hand of bananas without notice.
This modest sized blueberry farm is located a couple miles outside of Palmerston North and within view of Te Apiti Wind Mill Farm. The only requirements are your buckets and some cash. It would probably serve you well to leave your pride at the door since it's no easy feat.
I say all this in hindsight of course. I brought my camera but forgot my hat and sunscreen so you can imagine where my head was. Thankfully the owner kept a couple by the door to spare. Then, all we had to do was find a hedge and start collecting. As my friends sifted through the leaves, I took in the beauty of it all. Rows and rows of fruit and the delightful sounds of children chasing after butterflies. I half expected the Von Trapp family to pop out and burst into "Doe-A-Deer".
Of course, there were moments when the sun was exquisite and begged us to capture its luminance on our faces. The blueberries could wait right?
In other instances, we created those moments ourselves. I may not be a Gen Z but their ways are quickly rubbing off on me. I mean, there is something quite freeing and inspiring about being able to immortalize a moment simply using the elements of nature.
I remember my birthdays of the past, being sent to the photo studio to mark the come of a new age. I was awfully shy and didn't enjoy them. But the spontaneity that the digital age offers us as self-declared photographers has certainly changed all that.
The blueberry picking itself requires skill - determining large, dark coloured berries from their waxy, sour counterparts, avoiding thorns and bugs who all had the right to be there. But perhaps the hardest task of all, keeping them in the container.
Can I be honest? I hardly collected any berries. I just snacked off the tree, most of the time being rewarded with unripened fruit. I was completed distracted by every berry and flower, hoping to catch a different background, flower or bokeh to compliment the image I birthed in my mind.
But hey, that's what happens when a photographer visits a blueberry farm. So I was grateful for friends who forced me to pause and enjoy the moment myself.
It's definitely a lovely activity for a Saturday to be followed by brunch but that's for another day. Until next Saturday.
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