I started my day today making a 45 mile trek to Gainesville and back and then immediately began the 3 hour job cleaning the back porch which was a balmy 100º. I won't go into why it took me 3 hours to clean a 12 x 20 porch but suffice it to say I look forward to having my own place! I'm hot, tired and sweaty so I'm going to have to cop out a little bit today and post up an essay that I originally posted in my Notes on Facebook on June 3, 2011. I've always intended to copy it over to this blog and today seemed like a great day to do it considering.
If you haven't read this essay before I hope you enjoy it. It surprised me how much of a cord it struck with the people on Facebook so it seems like a lesson that bears repeating.
Lessons From a Blackberry Hunt
June 3, 2011
Everyone that knows us knows that the past year has been a strain. While we viewed being laid off back in 2008 as a positive step toward unshackling ourselves from a demanding and abusive work situation we weren't prepared for the global financial situation that would leave us in what I will understate as a lurch with the loss of our house being the easiest thing we had to deal with. We're currently staying with Chad's mom who has been a Godsend for us as we've waited for our clients to pay and the economy to loosen the stranglehold it has on our accounts payable. Every day Chad and I cut through a small field near her house to get to a road we like to walk on. It's like most clearings you find in Florida: grasses and a few varieties of Asters with Palmettos and Live Oaks circling it. Cutting through it is the inevitable dirt road path that always seems to exist in these sun-beaten meadow areas which Chad and I use to cross the clearing, never venturing from this path.
Today Chad and I once again found ourselves feeling suffocated by the dryness in the air that comes from having to run the AC to fight the hellish 105º Lake City heat index (is it still Spring?!). As we crossed our field talking about the emotional tug of war we live in every day where optimism fights with our day to day reality, my gaze passed over something new: what's this? Hanging low to the ground and twinkling like a cluster of shining purple pearls was a fat little blackberry, each round little ball just piled on top of the other like they were racing to reach up to the blazing Florida sun. I picked one for myself and another for Norman T-Bunz, our mini-rex, and we continued our walk until we circled around back home. Chad said it was just way too hot for us to be out there attempting to find more berries right then so I ate mine and gave The Norms his. It was what I expect a blackberry to be: sweet but woody from the seeds. Norm said it was munchy good stuff so I went and pulled out my compote recipe to see exactly how many blackberries I would need since cooking them down in the compote would soften the woodiness a bit. (Chad's mom is a fanatic for ice cream so I thought it would be great to surprise her with the topping tonight.) Reading over the recipe I got my number: 1 1/2 cups. Sporting a large measuring cup I marched back to the field looking forward to a quick harvest and a return from the direct sun that was still drumming down on my head with such an unrelenting beat (Summer is one time when it does not pay to be brunette).
The patch is young, this may even be the first year that it's ever yielded any berries at all. I sorted through the little patch of one foot tall plants and only got a third of the way to my measuring cup goal. I decided then that it was time to venture across the field where no one goes because, well, when it's that hot people need a reason to cross through to the other side! As I moved along I fell into a rhythm and found myself noticing the things that cross our vision every day but we never really see. I saw that, while I felt so clever finding these new patches I was finding as I moved along, the animals were the truly clever ones since, judging by the remarkably healthy and berry-filled raccoon scat that I came across they had already indulged in the first of the the really fat ripe berries already. I laughed at myself as I was scratched by the thorns just so I could grab the next little fatty that caught my eye thinking that it was silly that blackberries are currently on sale at the Publix right down the street for 1.99 a pint and I was making myself fight for berries that, quite honestly, aren't even in my top 3 favorite berries category. But as I moved through the field, walking, watching, conscious of my every step, my every location, searching for those little fat purple berries hidden beneath the bramble and behind the red and bitter young fruit I thought about the wonder of knowing that whatever berries I ate tonight they came from my finding them and harvesting them for myself. There was a connection, however trite it may sound, that came from thinking back to a culture that wasn't so long ago where if you wanted to eat it most likely you grew it yourself. For a moment I was doing what most of our ancestors, either recent or far back, did on a daily basis. There was an empowerment in knowing that we aren't so far gone yet, that it's still in us to forage through a field to find food, that all it takes is connecting with those roots within us. As someone that has felt at the mercy of a world that is all about what you can get in a store it reassured the survivor in me that it's still there, at least for as long as we take care of it.
In the end I found my 1 1/2 cups of blackberries. I'm scratched up and remarkably sweaty and I still have to cook them but I feel like I accomplished something today, even if it was mental. I thought a lot as I was collecting my prizes and my thoughts were far more poetic in form as I worked (as they usually are when I allow myself the quiet to really hear myself think). I came back to the house and thought that, despite any loss of poetry I may suffer, the lessons that passed through my mind would be worth writing down. I think they're pretty universal and if only one strikes a cord with someone then all the sweeter.
Lessons from a Blackberry Hunt
There are small blessings all around us and once seen they cannot be unseen and appear to be popping out everywhere.
Leave the bitter, take the sweet.
Watch out for snakes.
If what you're looking for isn't right in front of you, venture off the path a bit and you may find it hidden in a place you would never think to look.
If the time isn't ripe, revisit later.
Persevere: there is something sweet around the corner.
It will probably take longer than you think it will to find what you're searching for but if you look long enough you'll find what you need.
There is satisfaction that comes with not taking the easy route and it's probably healthier for you that way.
If you know where something comes from you appreciate it in a whole new way.
You can't find the berries without working through the thorns.
Goodness is found where the gentle things hide.
You aren't the only one that wants what you want so be sure to put yourself out there and get your share but don't be greedy: there are others that may need it more than you do.
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| My Blackberry Haul, Small as it may be. |
