It’s almost the middle of September outside already!! That of course means something very sad: summer is on its way out. This makes me cry in my noodles, because although I have Norwegian blood in my toenails, I love summer time!! I’d rather sweat than shiver any day of the week. And these days, that means I can live outside and get mosquito bites so I can have the West Nile virus. Isn’t that nice??  I’ve always wanted to visit Egypt…

Anyway, Michigan summers also mean there’s a lot of free food to be had in the woods and fields, and yes, even on the roadsides. And no, by free food on the roadsides I don’t mean that I encourage people to steal from roadside veggie stands. I’m talking about all the fruits and wild foods that sprout up around these parts.

I’m amazed (and grateful) at how many people miss them. Dunno about you, but when I go for walks, I keep my eyes peeled for snacks. That’s because I’m a food addict and I really love to eat. Once in awhile I find a half eaten McBarf burger or maybe half a bag of fries that someone kindly tossed out the car window. I generally do not eat those. Ok, I never eat those. But I have become pretty good at locating the berry patches and fruit trees that live near our house; and I make it a point to check on them occasionally to see what’s cooking. Strawberries are usually first, but there usually aren’t too many of those in the wild around here. Then come the black cap raspberries, then the red and yellow (yellow?? Yes, there are yellow ones too…) raspberries, and then the blueberries, and then the blackberries.  Nearly all the berries are finished berrying by now, but there are a few blackberry stragglers left on our favorite walking trail.

The only problem with blackberry hunting is this: if you hunt for blackberries in earnest, you’re gonna get stabbed. Pretty much no likelihood that you’ll get away with no owies, unless of course you don’t want very many berries. Many times I’d find myself going on a hunt, in my protective berry pickin’ clothes: shorts and a tank top. I’d zero in on a marvelously loaded patch, and commence to getting all nicely scratched by blackberry vines.  I filled up a quart yogurt container in nothing flat; and stuffed my face with a few handfuls on my way out of the patch. Then the skeeters found me and wanted my blood, so of course I simply had to get just a few more handfuls before making a break for the car.

I was in heaven.

The next day, I was sitting with some friends and they asked me, “Holy Cow Ken!! What happened to your legs??”  I had to think a minute, then I remembered I was picking blackberries.  Might sound unbelievable but when I’m focused on getting Nature’s Candy, I really don’t notice the leg scratchings.  Well OK, sometimes I might yell “OUCH!!” during a berry picking excursion, but I continue on, oblivious to the status of my ouchy legs.

Berry picking just plain makes sense. You get outside, free and very healthy snacks go ploonk in your pickin’ bucket (in spite of those pokey-ouches), and for this berry picker at least, it sets the mind free for meditation. When I’m out in one of my favorite patches, my mind is focused on just one task: picking. That gives my brain a much needed rest, and allows me to revisit the past when my Dad used to take advantage of our small size and send us into the thickets to get the big ones. Dad was always very intent on making jelly every time he heard there were ripe berries. So being the fine kids we were, the four of us soon learned that if we didn’t want to spend a whole day or two picking and cleaning wild fruits, that we might just forget to tell Dad that we found any.

I’m often astounded at the lack of knowledge out there about these natural candies. In previous years I’d go picking during my lunch hour and bring my bucket full of goodies back to the workplace. Upon my return, I’d offer friends and neighbors some berries. Some dig in, and others say, “what the heck are those??” Then I tell them, and they might ask something like, “are those washed??” “Well, Mother Nature washes them every time it rains,” I’d reply. After a few careful peeks into the bucket, several of my coworkers have shrugged and said, “no thanks.”

There’s only one logical response in such a situation.  I’d tell them, “that’s ok, that’s more for me!”

Well, I looked for a berry picking cartoon, but found this old classic instead.  Here’s why you should consider planting onions in your garden!!