Tiny, bouncy, snapping with tart flavor, cranberries are the last fruit of the harvest, the earth's bonny farewell until spring. Wisconsin leads the nation in cranberry production, particularly near Tomah, about 3 hours southeast of the Twin Cities. Massachusetts and New Jersey bring in a good haul, but those berries are processed (into juice, canned jellies and relishes, dried). The fresh berries from our neighbor, plump with holiday promise, are the fairest of them all.

Harvesting fresh cranberries is tricky. Care is taken not to bruise the fruit or damage the vines. A lot of labor is involved and the batches are relatively small. Cranberries, close cousins to wild blueberries, grow on low vines with slender wiry stems that sport small, evergreen leaves. At this time of year, they are the color of heather.

The berries, native to North America, develop through the summer, turning from white to pale pink to red as they grow. (The berries at the bottom of the bush, deprived of sunlight, will remain white.) Cranberries float, so growers flood the fields and bring the fruit to the surface where a harvester with forklike paddles tugs them off the vines. They are deposited into gorgeous mounds on flat-bottom boats, then trucked to the nearby plant for winnowing, cleaning, sorting and bagging.

Habelman Bros., a fourth-generation family company based in Tomah, is the world's largest producer. Surrounded by a forest of blazing fall leaves, the marshes are a playground for sandhill cranes, geese, blue herons and ducks.

Besides the more familiar uses in sauces, chutney and relish, cranberries are terrific added to the roasting pans of pork or chicken (just toss them in with the onions and herbs). Truly fresh cranberries have a very mild flavor (right off the vines, they're tart but tasty).

This year's crop is promising. The fruit is big, firm and plump. Stock up, they'll keep a good week in the fridge and they freeze beautifully for the holidays and beyond.

Beth Dooley is a Minneapolis writer and cooking teacher.