This morning, my teens were making themselves breakfast before school and I overheard them discussing an unusual-to-them fruit.

“I thought they were grapes, but they look more like HUGE blueberries.”

“Hmm…interesting taste. But I don’t know what they are.”

On inspection of their plates after they’d left for the day, I recognized the mystery. They are Concord grapes.

When I was young, my parents made an attempt at an apple orchard on a property we always referred to as The Farm. It had previously been owned by my dad’s parents so he had memories housed there going back to when he’d been young. Weekends and summers of my childhood and early teens we would go and tend to the trees.

We would pull up on Friday evenings and my Dad would start the propane heater. I have a memory of a bird’s nest being settled under the cap, that he knew how to slowly open it and work around the nest to not disturb the eggs. I can almost hear him chuckling at how the chatter of the birds sounded trying to persuade him to move along.

There were vines of Concord grapes near the shed along a fence which also sheltered nearby asparagus. I don’t recall any other fruits or vegetables there — it wasn’t like a garden — although those seem like odd neighbors to me now. My mom and I would pick the grapes.

In my mind, I can see her wearing a sun hat. Her hair is long down her back, and she looks through the leaves for the dark globes. The ones we didn’t eat (spitting out the seeds), we passed forward to her mother, who made jelly.

My folks eventually sold The Farm before I had met my now-spouse, so he’d never been. Although I have talked about this place and time with them, I think my teens have a difficult time imagining it. It is all so far removed from Life as they know it.

Today, these grapes are a gift of memory and storytelling — an opportunity to be with my parents and even my grandparents a bit. For my kids, it will add a dimension of flavor to their understanding of these people and the times we shared.

One part discovery for them, one part time travel with me.

End blip.