Tuesday, July 12, 2011


While I focus my energy on the garden as a way to bring fresh local produce into our lives, Josh is honing his skills to turn us into urban scavengers. Growing up in Alaska, he's used to multiple kinds of berries available for enjoyment from the natural landscape. So when he found patches of black raspberries on the banks of the Mississippi River two years ago, a new summertime tradition began.

The black raspberries are ripening now. Depending on the weather, their season is anywhere from late June to mid-July. It's prickly, buggy, sweaty work, requiring long sleeves, pants, and bike gloves to protect from the prickles and the stings. Nevertheless it's satisfying not just for the product of pounds and pounds of berries, but for the meditative quality of the repetitive, detailed nature of the work.

Josh is a prolific picker. I usually lose half my berries to my picking partner(s). It's okay. The other satisfaction is seeing my little loves in a purple-stained, full-bellied berry-induced stupor.

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