We picked berries everywhere. On the way to school. In between games of hide and seek and fort building. After bike rides. During daydreams.
We cradled berries in our hands, did our best to avoid the thorns.
Blackberries, marionberries, black raspberries, huckleberries. We didn’t know their names, just their tastes. How did we learn they weren’t poisonous? We just knew. We rarely washed the berries or saved them for later. We never got sick.
No matter how I long I live in the city, berries bring me back to wildness.
Edible Joy 