Berries from Canaan

This morning I walked to a patch of blackberries beside an old logging road that cuts across our farm.  My faithful dog, Sammy, and the new puppy, June, kept the snakes at bay while I picked a cupful of blackberries from the Land of Canaan.  They are twice the size of the rest of the berries scattered around the woods and driveway.  An older friend told me that the big ones are blackberries and the small ones are "dewberries."  I don't know if this is right--but I prefer to think of them as from the Land of Milk and Honey that I remember from the Bible story books my Mom read to me at bedtime.  There was a picture of two men carrying a huge bunch of grapes, using a pole across their shoulders, as they returned from checking out the land God had promised their people.  Picking these giant berries feels like that.