We took the dogs for a walk Saturday evening down to Fouche Gap Road. Near the end of our walk we pass some blackberry thickets. The blackberries are ripening. It doesn’t seem that long ago that the only thing on the canes was hard, little white berries. Then, suddenly, they were red. Now some are getting ripe.
Blackberries along Lavender Trail
Of course they are hard to get to. The best ones are deep in the back, but some are accessible.
I picked a few. Some were a little hard and a little too tart, but some were just right. I ate a few, and I gave a few to Leah. Zeke was interested, as he is anytime we’re eating. So I gave him one. He mouthed it and then spit it out. And then he wanted to try it again. So I picked it up and gave it to him again. This time he ate it. And it turns out he likes them. Lucy, on the other hand, isn’t interested
Zeke has watched me picking the blackberries, so he knows where they’re coming from. He has been checking them out.
It’s hard to believe they actually come from inside there
He sniffs them but so far he hasn’t tried to eat any. I don’t think he can tell the difference yet between ripe and unripe. And I don’t think he knows about thorns yet.
On Sunday night we walked the dogs again, and the three of us shared more blackberries. I might have to come back Monday with long pants and boots to pick some of the good ones in the back.
I can remember picking blackberries at my grandparents’ farm in Kentucky. And I can also remember the itchy chigger bites that resulted from us wading into that mess. Some wonderful cobblers though.
We have been fantasizing about jelly and wine, but I doubt that we will get enough blackberries for either. Our biggest problem getting into the thick of the brambles here is not chiggers but ticks. I took the dogs into the woods Sunday morning and then that night found a tick on my stomach when I was getting ready for bed. During the night any time I felt the slightest tickle I thought it must be a tick. And once it actually was.