Ode to Raspberries

About a week ago I went berry picking and wrote this post knowing I would need something when I got back from the Oregon Christian Writers’ Summer Coaching Conference. So I went berry picking a little over a week ago. My quest was for blueberries. There is a U-Pick place nearby, and I’d been waiting for their blueberries to come in. Well, it’s been a weird season this year and the blueberries just hadn’t ripened up, so my friend, Tracy, and I returned to the raspberries where we’d each picked a bag-full two weeks ago.

It was a beautiful day, and the bushes were mature so the rows towered over our heads, and there were plenty of ripe berries.

Now having been raised in the city, berry picking is still new to me, and I couldn’t help marveling at the wonder of it. The ripe berries were such perfect little gems! And each berry was a cluster of miniature globes, each globe glowing like a glass of fine claret held up to the light. They were so beautiful! The process of picking was like a treasure hunt, peering beneath cascades of leaves, reaching for that perfect berry through wreathes of branches and greenery. And the berries were so warm and ripe they practically fell into my hand as though they had been waiting just for me.

I now understand why still life artists love to paint berries—the colors are so rich and the process of catching their crystalline glow one that would surely showcase their talent. As for me, I was inspired as well…

Ah, Raspberries!
Rich glowing globulets of claret flame.
A treasury of gems
Weaving round and in between.
Glimmering in sunlight,
Tucked neath leafy lap rugs.
An explosion of beauty and…
mmm…
sweet, sugary delight.

Take your kids out to pick something fresh!

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