That is a palmful of some blissfully juicy, sweet-tart wild blackberries. So tasty.
Last week, I noticed something red in a bush along my driveway while pulling out to go to the store. I didn’t stop at the time, and I mentally wrote it off as some inedible red berries like the perfectly round and frosty-exterior ones I used to squash between my fingers growing up.
Then, while I was walking up the driveway to get the mail yesterday, the spots of red caught my eye again. Except this time, I had the wherewithal to actually take a closer look. Those red berries that I wrote off? Turns out, they were not-yet-ripe blackberries. Wild blackberries.
I couldn’t be more excited. A few years ago, I discovered black raspberries at a family member’s house and made a delightful jam from them. I cannot wait to transform these blackberries into blackberry butter (food mill recommendations, anyone?).
Triumphant, I picked a few ripe ones to sample, sharing with the kids and Shawn. They’re pretty stoked too.
Honestly though, there is one thing bugging me. I have lived here for quite a few years, and this is the first I have ever seen of these bushes of blackberries. This isn’t one little bush, this is many bushes. They will produce pints and pints of berries this season. But why have I never seen them before? Was I so blind to my surroundings for all these years? Seriously?
Have you ever discovered something unexpected on your property? Maybe it’s time to go looking …