Brambling

While we were exploring the wind farm a few weeks ago, we found a healthy patch of brambles next to a pathway up the hill. We had left the wind farm behind us, and had joined a small footpath that we hoped (and we weren't disappointed) was a shortcut.

After that, we have been going back every week to check on the brambles. Every week, we came back empty handed. Perhaps we were being a bit optimistic that they would follow the same seasons as the plants in Lincolnshire, but it wasn't until today that we finally got a harvest of plump blackberries.

Taking Orlando for a walk along the wind farm is one of the highlights of my week. My job in Wick means that I'm not the one who walks him from Monday to Friday but weekends are a joy! Today, we decided to be hopeful again and take a few plastic boxes which, as we were wandering along the track through the windfarm, we were imagining filling with those fruity treasures.

Of course, when we got to the bushes, our hearts sank. While the berries were plumping up, they were still a dull red and looked far from appetising. We'd come back next week.

"Oh well," I sighed. "We'll continue along the path and find the road so Ginny can pick us up."

The disappointment at not getting the fruit soon evaporated as we further explored the area where we lived. Fallen trees were making way for newer growth and, I'm certain of it, providing a habitat for all manner of creatures. Looking on the map a few weeks ago, we knew there was a cairn hidden somewhere among the trees, but the fact we couldn't see it was exhilarating!

Then, we came to the first mass of brambles. Previously, I had been impressed and excited by the bushes we had seen. Now, those plants faded into memory as we found towers of these bushes clinging onto rosebay willow herb, fallen trees, fence posts... anything the thorns could cling to.

Being situated in the full sun, slightly away from the trees, these berries were perfect. Judith took Orlando (our spaniel) while I perched precariously on a moss-covered rotting log, and reached for the darkest berries. Meanwhile, Judith and Orlando went scouting ahead to see if they could find more bushes. They came back with good news - Orlando had sniffed out more of the treasure.

Because our spaniel was being so well behaved, we both started harvesting with one of us keeping the dog lead in our hand. Orlando picked a few himself but ate them straight away, deciding then to lay down on the mossy grass, keeping away from the thorns unless he thought we weren't paying him enough attention.

It's a wonderful feeling to go foraging, especially for something as delicious as blackberries. The feeling of nature providing for you is phenomenal and, while I was planning on taking a runner from the bush for the garden, I decided it would be a bit foolish as we know now we have walls of these berries within walking distance from the house.

I didn't see any wasps (it was probably too windy for them) and I didn't see any spiders. I remember the brambles I had picked in Lincolnshire as being covered in spiders, but that's perhaps because it traumatised me when I was younger! As I was standing there, picking them, enjoying the thrill of being outside, I wondered if the birds had eaten some of the berries, and perhaps the spiders too.

The more I picked, the more I dreamed, and my mind started wandering further and further down memory lane. Individuals I hadn't thought about for many years came to my mind. I wondered what they would think to our antics.

Eventually, we came to the road and rang Ginny for a lift, both of us being far too tired to make it back up the steep hill to the house. As we waited, we picked more, a few of the juicier ones ending up in my mouth!

We enjoyed the fruits of our labour this afternoon with a delicious blackberry and apple crumble (one of my favourites!) made by Mum. Delicious is the only word to describe it that doesn't trivialise it!