Brambles: Have you ever been caught up in brambles as you walk? They have the best defence in the wild, scratchy and painful they say do not touch. They will wind themselves around you, hiding the juiciest blackberry in the heart of the bush, you always feel triumphant after a blackberry picking day.
They are the harvest of September, dire warnings after that, the devil has spat on them and they become inedible. A more prosaic answer is that the flies are laying eggs, to turn into maggots on them.
Blackberries stew in the pot their rich dark colour suddenly emphasised by the sparkling white of the sugar poured into them. Slow staining of the sugar as it melts and then gloop, gloop the soft volcanic rising of bubbles, till that moment of testing. Take a white saucer and a spoon, dribble a little of the mixture onto the saucer, cool slightly and then either blow or drag a spoon gently over, if it wrinkles you have jam ;)
I planted a cultivated blackberry at Church House, a friend came along and said why did you not plant a thornless one? And so each time I collected the bountiful supply of blackberries, coming away scratched I would remember her words. But then I would remember the times those long snaky tendrils have whipped round my clothes ensnaring me till picked off. I remember my terrified horse as a hornet buzzed her in Epping Forest how she dived into a thicket of brambles for protection. Or Moss who managed to lose his precious ball in another thicket. So I bravely went in with him behind me, and I got stuck but laughed at my predicament.
They are the most prolific things you will find in the countryside in the untidy parts. Long may they rule and provide food and cover for our lesser creatures and when ever you curse them, remember the bounty they bring as well.
All this was sparked by Jackie Morris's journal entrance today and the song 'Bramble'. I cannot straight link to the Youtube version but you will find the link in the blog if you scroll down. As she chalks a bramble vine onto the gray stone, fall in love with the freshness of the flower, and then the beaded nature of the fruit.
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