Gerard’s Blog: Berries Bite Back

I’m having renewed doubts today. We spent a couple of hours yesterday, hunting for raspberries. And raspberry picking, as most of you will know, is not necessarily joyful picking. The raspberry’s preferred terrain is mostly upturned mounds, often around deadfall, stumps, and hidden ankle hazards. And then they immerse themselves amongst the nettle and the roses and other prickly deterrents. Oh, and as if that is not enough, they arm themselves with thorns, and guard their territory with a mass cooperative of thousands of stinging insects, all working in noisy unison to minimize my joy with the process. The whole thing feels conspiratorial, personal. And afterwards, while soaking our feet in the healing river, we look in the pails, dreamily thinking of the jams and pies, when all this becomes ruined by the horror of the moment. Less than a liter apiece is our yield! And that is even before we remove the twigs and leaves and abundance of bugs and spiders. There are definitely going to be some desperate evenings come January…