There it was alongside the trail, a mounding bramble sprawled, weighty with blackened berries. We stopped. And picked until fingertips were stained red and water bottles were poured out, then filled up with whole berry juice. We ate just as many, berries gushing as each 'pillow' popped liquid sweet, warmed by the California sun.
What do you do when heaped under covers with two boys on a dark and snowy January night?
You recall that surprise meeting with a wild blackberry bush on that last summer's day. It's easy to remember as the lamplight shines on the vegetables, herbs, fruit trees, and, yes, berry bushes in the pages of the gardening book that you pour over together. The talk is of soil and worms, good bugs vs. bad bugs, corn ears and potato eyes. You grin that the guys are just as interested in this growing as you are. "What's a greenhouse and which composter is your favorite?" they ask. "Are tomatoes a fruit or a vegetable?" "Oh, look at that garden floor plan!" You all agree that it would be wonderful to have a garden 'floor plan' just like that one day.
And on it goes until you just can't keep the eyelids open any longer.
Then, through the dim, the boy known as The Fruit Bat says, "Mama? Do you think we could grow some blackberry bushes?"
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I've got some gardening titles squirrelled away on my wish list now, because growing blackberries in Wyoming? We may need some help with that one :
Do you have any well-loved gardening books that you'd like to share? Leave a comment and let us know!
