These are also locally called “red raspberries,” but they are not raspberries; they are an invasive berry from Japan. Alien invasive or not, they are quite delicious and today I gathered enough to make a couple pies. I was willing to brave heat, humidity, thorns and various insects in my greed to collect the latest fruit.
This has definitely been the summer of natural attacks on my person. In the last couple of weeks I’ve gotten about 16 pounds of blueberries, but I certainly paid the price in chigger bites, the abundance of which is probably due to the extremely wet spring we had. Those bites are not bothering me anymore, although they look awful and will take another two or so weeks to heal. I somehow managed to survive one or two terrible nights, in which the antihistamine Benadryl and ice cubes in sandwich baggies came to the rescue like knights in shining armor.
The blueberries succeeded the black raspberries, also paid for with welts, that time from poison ivy. I’m hoping that the wine berries will not exact any more tolls in the parade of summer attacks from mosquitoes, poison ivy, ticks, and chiggers, all of which have my body looking like a war zone. I’ve had more than enough already. But my unquenchable desire for the latest and freshest summer fruit makes the insect risks pale in comparison. Next up on the wild fruit parade will be blackberries, extremely plentiful and lush this year. My plan for them is blackberry wine. Joe has not yet told me how many pounds will be required (he makes wine in 6 gallon batches), but I’m prepared and ready to go into the uncomfortable woods to gather as much as necessary.
It’s strange to me how uncomfortable Nature actually is. As a sarcastic teenager I wrote a high school essay decrying Wordsworth and his love of nature. If you sit in the grass, I recall writing, ants will crawl all over you. I also included some deprecating remarks about high school English teachers, which earned me a failing grade on the essay and a request that I be transferred to another class. Unfortunately, the transfer was not possible, so the teacher and I had to bear each other’s company for the rest of the school year. I remember that the comment most littering my essays was “Awk,” which meant my sentence was awkward. In any event, I stand by my adolescent observation. Nature is uncomfortable. If I want to sit down, I would much rather do so on a bench or, better yet, an armchair. Logs or rocks? They will do in a pinch, but are certainly not preferable to human-made seating. The ground? Well, that is more or less tolerable if I have a towel or a blanket. I love the woods. I love nature. I love the fruits of nature. But that is not at all where I am comfortable. That is not where I live.
Nothing "Awk" about that marvelous piece of writing! I'm not a city girl by any stretch, but I'm not a woodsy person either... I suppose I'm a beach, sand and surf person and have been all my life! I cringe at the thought of all those bites and scratches! Early this week a horsefly bit me on the top of my foot, and I scratched it and it made me miserable for several days! And it didn't even come with a piece of pie!
Wonderful narrative that made me laugh! The best things in life can be painful at times ... like summer fruit and English lessons. But both have results worth pursuing.
Pertinent observations indeed. In my experience, teachers do not like pupils who challenge the notions that are integral to their teaching. But after school days are over, that kind of attitude becomes an asset. Im impressed by the array of fine fruits you have for the picking, despite the cost. I like the photographic march of the berries coming to get you.
