Blackberries grow on long, extremely thorny branches. They don't seem to move yet the moment you get close enough, they stealthily reach out and grab the tenderest skin on your body. It is not possible to pick wild blackberries without finishing looking like an angry cat got a hold of you. When the kids were little we would pick together, always accusing the others of eating more than they produced in their bowls. Today, I picked alone. I ended up with far more berries than I ever did with my little crew. Proof positive my pickers were eaters. As I picked blackberries this morning in hopes of creating my annual pie, I had lots of time to reflect on the experience and consider the metaphor for life found in these brambles. There is nothing as delicious as a berry picked at the peak of perfection - slightly soft so it rolls off the stem with hardly any pressure. However, those perfect berries are not easily had. As it is in life, the sweetest jewels are hard and perilous to reach, often only grasped after several painful thorns pierce you as you reach for it. Sometimes, just as you have that prize you worked so hard for within your grasp, it tumbles away into the depths of the brambles, never to be enjoyed. Other times, the perfect berry is reached for, scratches endured, prickles embedded only to discover the the unseen side is still red, unripe and sour to the taste. Berries, it seems, are often like life experiences - not what they first appear to be and not as good as they looked from the other side.
When I make a pie, I often will include a few of these tart fruits. The unexpected tang seems to add depth to the sweetness of the rest of the pie. As it is with life, the contrast of the sweet with the sour makes the sweet that much more delicious.
Some of the berries are at the peak of ripeness, they are in the prime of their life. Others have gone slightly beyond - a bit shriveled but still filled with deliciousness, caught before they were no longer able to contribute to a tasty baked good.
This is deeper thought than I usually apply to fruit picking or baking. Coming home to Santa Rosa has made me reevaluate many things, see the changing seasons, so to speak. I have reflected on the good times, the "thorny" times and the benefits and growth from both. Life can be delicious. So is blackberry pie.
