Four short snapshots put us right inside a day of berry picking. The speaker is alone, or nearly so, and paying close attention. In the first haiku, the crickets go quiet whenever the wind rises, so the scene is defined by what you stop hearing. In the second, the only sound is the faint clink of car keys in a pocket, a small reminder of the everyday world waiting outside the bog.
The third haiku zooms in on a single detail: the little star-shaped mark at the tip of each blueberry, repeated over and over as the bucket fills. The last one adds a gentler, funnier note. The speaker picks "against the winter," as if gathering something to get through the cold months, while a fly lands on their lip and they don't seem to mind.
The mood is calm, patient and a little humble. Nothing dramatic happens. The pleasure comes from slow work, quiet surroundings and noticing tiny things.