The river is already quieter now. More boatless moorings. Seasonal boaters have squeezed out the last of summer’s gaiety. Through the pines lining our river bank, we see the occasional white sail slipping silently by, heading to a safe haven for a winter “on the hard.” A few leaves are starting to turn. And the hummingbirds will soon disappear, commencing their long migration southward after taking their last long sips of nectar. Some of us retirees will keep our boats on the water as long as we dare, until the chill fall air makes inevitable the decision to haul them out. It has been a good season on the water.

“But why not, Mrs. Dunn?” Pickles asked.

Farmers markets at this time of the year brim with mounds of bright red tomatoes with contrasting purple and variegated eggplants in their vegetable stands. And yet, in plant classification they are fruit and by botanical definition berries. Both are well known as edible, even though they belong to the nightshade family of plants, with some deadly relatives.