The dog and I spend a lot of time walking along the bogs here in southeastern Massachusetts. Hot, cold, snow, rain and shine. There are plenty of trails through the woods but somehow there always seems to be a bog nearby.
It’s quiet and peaceful on the bogs. Many are reclaimed wetland with the old berms still there to walk on. Others are active bogs and this time of year they come alive for harvest season. And there I am with my camera.
Most of the local bogs use wet harvesting: First the bogs are flooded from a nearby reservoir; Then the ‘egg beaters’ come in to dislodge the berries from the vines, now underwater; When the cranberries float to the surface, workers in waders corral them into a circle where a vacuum hose sucks them up and into a waiting truck. Just in time for Thanksgiving.