Oh blackberries. I love ’em and I don’t like ’em. All at the same time. They are an invasive species here in Oregon. They pop up throughout our garden, seem to grow a few feet overnight, and overtake everything with their thorny brambles. They’re a huge pain. They get caught in your pant legs when you walk by, scratch your wild toddler running past them, and barge in on your garden party when they weren’t invited while kicking out all your friends.
When Jeff first moved here, the entire area “down below” was covered in blackberries and was impassable. He got a goat to eat them up and clear the area, so it could be used for garden space. The years we had goats, they did a good job on them too (but destroyed many other things in the process.)
Anyway, I am not pleased when I see blackberries taking over around our place. We dig up their roots and toss them out again and again (and again.) But right now, this time of year, I don’t feel quite so annoyed with those thorny guys. Right now they are covered in ripe, juicy berries that burst in your mouth with incredible flavor. And their taste is worth every scratch in the process. Bracken heads out every morning to point at the newly-ripe ones hanging over the roof of the old shed, out of his reach. We surprise Jeff with some. Bracken’s face gets so stained I think it’ll be purple forever.
Ahh blackberries. Right now I love you.