Black raspberries

Our black raspberries are one of summer’s greatest joys. All year, we look forward to eating them. We devour them during their short season, mostly in raspberry ice cream.

Last year we had a good crop. Rains fell at the right time to produce lots of plump, juicy berries. I thought I might be able to make preserves. That didn’t happen. We ate every last berry I picked!

The berry thicket is a hot, stuffy place. No air moves. I pick the berries early in the morning. That’s the only time picking is bearable. I object to being scratched, so I wear pants and a jacket. My hands are the only part of me left uncovered below the neck. Unfortunately, I can’t pick while wearing gloves. I tend to crush the berries because my sense of touch is off. Once I did try picking while wearing thin plastic gloves. That didn’t work. The gloves were shredded within minutes.

So I get a few scratches. Big deal. The price of scratches is well worth paying in order to eat delectable berries.