 
					
					
									
				
				
				
				Hunting and gathering
On Saturday I was looking for something to paint when I noticed a commotion near at hand in the bush. A bear, I thought. Then the hook of a walking-cane stuck out. “What are you doing in there?” I asked. A man’s voice and then a man emerged. “Lookin’ fer an’ pickin’ chokecherries,” he said. He was a rough character, like an old cowboy in a baseball cap — he was wearing an old-fashioned galvanized iron apple-bucket with a canvas bottom. The cane was for getting at the high branches. “Try ’em,” he said, handing me a handful
 
						 
								 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									 
					
					
									