Before surrendering to the luscious fall baking of apple pies and pumpkin cheesecakes, I had one last appointment with the remaining berries of summer. They were waiting in my freezer, as if suspended in time, their sweet perfection having been frozen at their peak. A handful of blackberries from our own bushes that we had gathered before the deer finished them off; raspberries, a gift from friends who had picked them one August afternoon; blueberries from a Saturday morning trip to the farmer’s market — all frozen memories of the vanished summer.
This weekend, I combined those berries for one last taste of summer in a pie that we shared with friends. And today, a single piece remains. By tomorrow, it will be a memory, and a bushel of apples will take its place in my kitchen with all the promise of autumn.