As spring is winding down and summer approaches, the tangles of prickly Blackberry bushes get so thick along our road and any meadow that was not earlier bush-hogged, that I would be tempted to curse the gosh-awful stuff if not for the promise of the berries. Then somewhere near the 4th of July, just when you think it would be nice to just torch the whole thicket before it can scratch one more bare leg, or the side of a passing car; we arrive for our weekend at the cabin and our world is covered with juicy, sweet, bumpy, Blackberries.
The nice thing is they don’t all get ripe at once. There will be ripening berries for several weeks to come. And just about the time the berries in the hollow begin winding down, the berries in the higher elevation up on the ridges are in full swing. This year, we have had ripe berries to pick for over a month and still picking.
Blackberries make wonderful pies and I have enough in the freezer to make pies all winter long.