Some of you know that I live in the middle of nowhere, U.S.A. which is smaller than Dive's Smallville.
We live on a three acre lot with agricultural/conservation zoning which was sold to us by our neighbor.
We decided to reforest about an acre. Unfortunately the Electric Co-0ps power lines cut through a bit of the reforested area. Last year they told us they had to cut a path through it. These were tree guys and we told them we wanted to preserve as much of the trees as possible. They were very considerate. We had other people who wanted to spray and kill everything. We would not allow this. Our neighbors allowed them to spray an area and they destroyed an entire patch of black raspberries.
Happily, last year's cut resulted in a flowering daisy meadow!
One of my little summer guilty pleasures is to take the dogs out in the morning for a bit of exercise.
I must confess that while the family thinks I'm exercising, I am actually foraging for berries.
In my little wooded corner of nowhere, I have thickets of black raspberry in June, and several varieties of blackberries in July.
These delectable treats while abundant will never be made into jam or a pie. I've been there, done that.
Not as long as they are part of my morning walk.
When they are fresh, they are healthy, full of fiber and not coated with sugar. I can gobble them up without much guilt.
A pie would transform these into a sinful indulgence. So I will enjoy these in July, fresh and sweet. Sugar is not necessary. I may not burn as many calories from walking fast, but I think of all the calories I've saved from not making them into pie.
More importantly, there is something about berry picking that transforms me into a kid again. I love the hunting, I love the gathering. I just don't like to share the harvest. And by the way, I do live on Blackberry Road.