Thursday, June 17, 2010
The birds are not eating our raspberries. The berries ripen to a luscious purple, and they stay on the vines. Perhaps I should not be frustrated at how hard they are to pick. They are there for me, because the plant hides its berries so well. I have to turn over leaves and stalks, peer up from below, approach the plants from every direction, to glimpse the ripest berries. It’s quite annoying, really, but I do get to eat the delicious things, because the plants, unlike, say, a blueberry bush, know how to guard their wealth.