sweet, juicy and ripe
stop and snatch a few to eat
bushes do abound
The berries from the fresh air market or the town organic market may be plumper and hold a sweeter taste--but stopping along the road to pick blackberries brings back kid memories. Cathy and I picked many berries on the top Edgewood and even made our first jam when I was ten. But the art of berry picking was perfected as we procrastinated by the mile long bushes on those many, long, tedious hikes during my camp days as a teen. To ward off hunger until the next meal we lined up off the shoulder of the road to Guernville. Campers and counselors, alike, picked and ate, picked and ate. We didn't need buckets--we plopped the soft, delicate nuggets on our tongues. Berry stains on mouth and t-shirts were the only telltale signs of our detour back to camp. How fun to remember those happy hiking moments as the blackberry bushes once again provide a roadside treat in a whole new land.
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