When the Shadbush Blooms

When the deer shed their winter coats and geese honk on the pond, Dad and my brother clear the land for our garden. Mom and I sing as we plant the corn, and the baby coos, shaking her rattle.
When the berries ripen, dangling like tiny hearts, we go berry picking. My brother and I race to see who can pick the fastest. The baby tastes her first berries. Her smeared face makes me laugh. When the air hums with the wings of bees, my brother and I chase the crows from our garden. Together we gather honey. My brother ducks when a bee buzzes too close. I lick from one finger a drop as sweet as summer.
When tall stalks rustle and the ears of corn have grown fat, we roast corn with our friends. While Grandma carefully takes her corn off the cob, I gobble mine fast. The baby plays with a new doll, and my brother scores a goal for his team.