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| 07/30/2007: "Picking berries while Romy burns"
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Although I've occasionally scorned summer as my least-favorite season, that's not quite fair. It all depends on the weather, and summer can be very nice indeed when temperatures stay below about 85-90 Fahrenheit. Despite its charms and the seasonal bounty of Nature, summer's still my third-favorite time of year at best-- the transitional seasons of autumn and spring firmly occupy the #1 and #2 slots. Summer and winter will always jockey for those #3 and #4 positions, trading places as mood and climate shift from day to day, week to week.
I come from a berry-picking culture, growing up in Arctic and subarctic Alaska where summer is short but incredibly intense; at its peak the sun never sets, or barely dips below the horizon. Those endless Alaskan summer days nurture a frantic burst of plant growth, and the tundra becomes a veritable carpet of berries. In much the same way that the greatest wines are made from grapes whose vines are somewhat stressed, Alaska's brief and challenging summers impart a memorably intense flavor to the native fruits. Trust me: you haven't tasted the true, primal Essence of a blueberry unless you've sampled one from one of those eight-inch tundra blueberry plants.
In remote Alaska the berry season is a major topic of conversation, since the traditional subsistence lifestyle depended heavily on them for seasonal relief from a largely meat and fish diet. Since early childhood I've been fascinated by the magic of berries, and when an exceptionally good crop is encountered I'll happily spend many hours picking them-- hey, this is treasure free for the taking, folks!
The Willamette Valley is also noted for its berries, and although they don't quite match their Arctic counterparts in intensity, a few come close. Blackberries are especially rife in Oregon, and in a field just across the river from the Swamp Shack the most lush, ripe and rampant blackberry patch I've seen in years is now reaching its peak. Man, are they good! Here's this morning's casual harvest:
Blackberries
Gotta remember to slather on sunscreen beforehand, though: I get so intent on berrypicking that those harsh, burning solar rays of summer are forgotten. Hey, Autumn will be here berry, berry soon-- now there's a season. In the meantime, carpe diem. --r.
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