The tree closest to the chicken coop is a mulberry tree, and as of this week the mulberries are starting to become ripe.
I didn't learn the joy of fresh mulberries until I was an adult. Luckily, my girls won't have to wait that long. I see lots of cobblers and, possibly, mulberry wine in our future.
A branch of the mulberry tree overhangs the chicken yard. Apparently, appreciating mulberries isn't just a human thing.
Strawberry season stretches into mulberry season, which might just stretch into blackberry season, which is followed by apple season.
Life is good.