Berry Picking Season

I never would have thought I'd get such a thrill from picking blackberries. The sharp thorns that get stuck to your head as you duck under to go for those huge ones just out or reach, the black mess that gets stuck to the bottom of your shoe when you step on overripe ones that have fallen off without any help, and laboring to pick them in the hot sun isn't something that most people sign up for. It has been a tradition for me since my childhood, and maybe that's why I love it so much. Ever since I can remember, I've gone blackberry picking every summer with my grandma and any other family member that's been brave enough to join. She insists on wearing her blackberry picking outfit- a turtleneck and sweats to keep the thorns off your bare skin, her berry picking shoes (ones so old and ratty that her big toe sticks through a hole on the top), a rope around her waist for conveniently holding a bucket so both your hands can be picking, and one glove (only 1!) for the hand that holds back the briers. Living in Oregon, blackberries are a well exposed gold mine. They grow wild all over the place, so you can pull over at any park, path, or parking lot and pick away for free! Maybe that's part of the thrill of picking. Or maybe it's imagining eating the blackberry pies that my grandma is "famous" for. Either way, it's worth it and this is a tradition that will be passed on to my kids someday.