'When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth.' Mary Oliver
When life (or a friend, in my case) gives you cooking apples, fresh and tart from the tree, go and look for blackberries. Well, that's what I decided to do anyway. In truth, blackberries seem few this year, I suppose as a result of the dry weather. Or maybe I just wasn't looking in the right places. Those I found were quite small but still sweet-tasting. I collected a little bag full. Once the apples were chopped and stewed, I added the blackberries, cooking them enough to release their purple juice but not lose their shape. The concoction needed a sprinkling of sugar to satisfy my sweet tooth but, oh, it was tasty.
Perhaps we all have a latent hunter-gatherer still within us. Once I got into the swing of it - and managing to avoid the sharp prickles of the brambles - it was a pleasurable half hour or so. There is something satisfying about getting close to mother earth and her bounty. I'm not a gardener at all, but I'm sure it must be very pleasing to harvest your own home-grown crops.
And yes, I did 'cram the black honey of summer into my mouth' as well as into the bag. You can't return from a blackberrying expedition without juice-stained fingers and a purple tongue!
