Precious memories of summertime in the South always begin with the smell of sweet bay magnolias. As I step into the early morning breeze, I remember the aroma of fresh cut grass, the sight of bees working each tiny bloom and hummingbirds zooming hither and yonder, the smell of lavender and mint from the herb garden, and blackberry bushes loaded with luscious fruit and the perfume of muscadine grapes.
On our farm we were always pickin’, peelin’, shellin’, shuckin’, snappin’, freezin’, cannin’, cookin’ and eatin’.