Wild Berries

There's nothing quite like stumbling upon a patch of wild berries, or even half-wild ones that have long been forgotten by the hand that sowed them. I recently discovered several blueberry bushes in my yard, all of them bearing clusters of green fruit with some azure tints beginning to appear on the sun-kissed outer berries. I regret that it took me so many years to find them. Likewise, having only discovered these recently as well, on the other side of my pond (the public side) black raspberries are numerous amongst the brush and brambles at the unkempt edges, graciously spared by the mower. Yet, even though dozens of people saunter by there daily, pausing to gaze at the slowly stagnating pond, it seems that none have bothered to pick a single berry. So, I go at my leisure and harvest a belly-full of those small fruits for my own indulgence, leaving no leaf unturned, performing a complete and thorough harvest.

Even more pleasing is discovering these well-placed rations while hiking. Mount Holyoke's western ridge of glacial rock, which rises up from the Connecticut River, offers just such a feast-laden trail, especially in July. The black raspberries are slower to ripen on those rocky slopes, and were not quite ready last week. By my birthday, the larger, more rewarding red raspberries will be plump and ready for picking. Again, even on this well-travelled public trail, the berries are largely unharvested, even those that dangle over the trail itself. I do not mind much that my fellow hikers are so unaware, since I pause and make a repast of the treasures that they unwittingly step over in their blind quest for the summit.