Blackberry Breakfast
There is just about nothing that tastes better than eating food straight from the land.
I recently hiked six miles into a valley of Olympic National Park. I’d never seen a temperate rainforest before but it was something to behold. A forest of trees so big and so old that I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what the U.S. was like when those trees were saplings.
My site was in a hammock, by me lonesome in the dry part of a creek-bed next to a running river.
Because I knew I’d be by myself and those woods were full of bear and mountain lions, I refrained from bringing any food with me. I simply loaded up for dinner and hit the trail. I felt great and full all night. But by the time I woke up in the morning, I was famished.
I packed up and headed back to the car. by the time I got to the open field two miles away from my car, I was ready to eat. And eat I did.
The particular field was surrounded—almost entirely—by thorny shrubs: blackberries.
I picked and picked more and more of the delicious little desserts until a half hour was passed and my mouth and insides were most certainly purple.
I couldn’t help but be grateful that God made edible plants to sustain humans and for us to enjoy them. But whenever that comes up, I also can’t help but wonder how much we’ve forgotten. It makes me want to learn how to cultivate what I know and learn more about what I don’t.
And so I think I will. In the meantime, I hope to always enjoy the patches of blackberries as I come upon them.
