Monday, July 06, 2009

The God of all Blackberries

Posted by Rosie at 1:16 PM

The God of Blackberries requires child sacrifice, blood and scratches, owies laid open, knees scraped and elbows skinned. Walk into the brambles and shuffle the canes, picking as you go, but leave behind rich redness and pain. The God of all Blackberries demands a price, stinging skin pierced by thorns you didn’t know about until the lemonade spilled. And who is to say at the end of the day whether or not you lie when your red-smeared mouth proclaims you ate none, brought home all.

 

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4 Comments:

  1. Bad Alice said...
    7/07/2009  
    Ah, I still have a scar on the palm of one hand from a blackberry bush. I don't remember it at all - my mom told me that is what happened.
    Hayden said...
    7/07/2009  
    I've given up on them, sick of the pain. Of course, that's easy to say out here in the arid west, where often as not they are too dry to eat, no matter how black. Lets see if I hold firm when I move back to Michigan!
    bonnie said...
    7/08/2009  
    The gravel roads that run to the gas wells around TQ's new place are lined with blackberries. Not quite ripe yet, still more red than black, but another week or two and mmmmmm.

    He's already planning to do some freezing & canning.

    I hope I can make it out there & help him out with picking. One for the basket, two for me, one for the basket, three for me...
    Tossing Pebbles in the Stream said...
    7/13/2009  
    Our blackberries are not ripe until the end of August and the beginning of September. They make such wonderful jam.

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