Blueberry Island
Blue dots on large green squares are all I see from a distance. This
tiny island is in Minnesota next to my grandma’s island. As I get
closer in the boat, waves splashing, I see that those tiny blue dots
are delicious, plump blueberries and those green squares are bright,
verdant leaves. It is puny and very loud once my cousins come. The
island is covered with blueberry bushes and lots of shady trees.
My berry-picking pail is empty but soon will be full. The blueberries
feel smooth as I gather them up. I slip a plump blueberry in my mouth,
hoping nobody saw me. The smell of the island is a forest, or freshly
cut wood. The island is small, sometimes noisy, and blueberry filled!
We call this place Blueberry Island.