Picking Blackberries

In my usual August slump; down in the dumps, in the doldrums. Whiney, ungrateful, crabby.
This weekend I went berry-picking out in the country. King and Queen County? King William County? Near Central Garage, and not too far, I believe, from Frog Level. By the Mattaponi River. Bee - yooooo - tee - fool weather : Not Too Hot. We each worked our own row. Mostly absolute quiet. Sometimes an insect noise, slapping of flipflops, a giggle. Two brothers sing now and then, not Bursting Into Song; one starts quietly to himself and invites the harmony; I'm not sure they're consciously aware of singing. I didn't recognize anything. Maybe they make things up as they go along. There's another brother, but he broke his kneecap waterskiing the day before and was left on the porch with his guitar.
One way or another I feel more grateful now.