Saturday, September 25, 2010

Bloody Berries

Falling into the berry patch hurts. Dumping the full basket is discouraging. Spider webs trapped me. Barbed thorns hooked tender flesh. Hair chunks getting yanked out by a bramble branch made me cry behind askew sunglasses.

Is that blood oozing or berry stains?

Another two quarts of berries in the freezer is all I have for my trouble today.

Why do I do it?

It is never about the berries.

It's about the sensual satisfaction of gathering summer and putting it by. For later.



5 comments:

Class of 1978 said...

And won't it be fun to open summer up on a rainy WA winter day!
-sherlene

Maureen said...

Where I grew up we had lots of blackberry patches and occasionally a snake or two. We always came home stained, scratched up - and out of breath if we'd spotted a snake. The berries were big. The pleasures of eating those fresh berries and having home-made jam through the winter always kept us going back for more. For later: Yes!

S. Etole said...

You have a way of injecting humor in painful situations ...

[and thanks for the comment about the "wilderness"]

Anonymous said...

It's never about the berries. I'll remember that next time.

Kathleen Overby said...

Kevin, Susan, Maureen, and Bradley....you know about this, don't you? :)