Blackberry Daydreams

 

It seems to be a good year for blackberries - or perhaps it's just because my workload has lessened dramatically due to the pandemic and I have the unaccustomed luxury of enough time to wander, harvesting the hedgerows.

The September air is cool, with still a touch of warmth when the sun breaks through. Abundant clusters of blackberries hang among the tangle of brambles. I push my way in, thorns snagging my clothes and hair. Delicately I pluck the tender berries and the pile in my basket grows rapidly. Despite my care, my fingers are soon stained with purple juice, and my arms and hands scratched. 

The blackberries look to me like tiny jewelled ornaments, each tiny drupelet like a shining bead of jet or onyx. They are a treasure, an abundant late-summer gift of delicious fruit that can be enjoyed in the moment or harvested and transformed into preserves to bring a taste of summer in the depths of winter. Across the valley the jays screech in the oaks as they harvest and stash their own winter treasure trove of acorns. The jays and I, preparing for the unknown times ahead, gratefully gather the plenty that is offered us. We know that nothing is certain.

As we take, we give too. We help the blackberries and oaks by dispersing their seeds. Jays (along with squirrels) are actually responsible for planting the vast majority of oak trees. They bury acorns to keep as a winter food source - and acorns need to be covered with soil to germinate. A single jay can collect up to 5,000 acorns so it's inevitable that some of their haul will remain buried and later sprout into new trees. Likewise, the seeds of consumed blackberries pass unharmed through the digestive tracts of birds, animals and humans and are distributed when they re-emerge at the end of the process! The blackberries, the jays, the oak trees, remind me that we are all part of the intricately woven and interconnected web of life.

My basket is almost full but still I comb the thicket for more treasure, peering up and down, side to side. It's amazing how a small change in the way I look at the brambles suddenly reveals new, previously hidden berries hanging in ripe clusters. What a good reminder of the importance of trying to see things from all sides and being flexible!

I pop berries in my mouth, enjoying the sweet, tangy juices - and I throw some to the eager chickens too. That's another important thing to remember - when you have plenty - share it! The blackberries give generously and it is good to follow their example. 

At last, I head back to the house. The sun, now low in the sky, slants golden light across the fields and I take a few moments to sit on the bench that overlooks the valley and watch the rooks circling their rookery in preparation for the oncoming night. Tawny owls call to each other. The air smells of the berry juice on my fingers, the spearmint next to the bench that I brushed past, and woodsmoke from a neighbour's bonfire. My hands are scratched and my hair is dishevelled but I have a basket full of ripe blackberries and the jays have their acorns. We are blessed, and we know it.