Blackberries, goodbye!

My parents were divorced when I was in second grade, and the family court concluded that I would live with my mother 11 months of the year and spend 1 month with my father. My dad was a forester, a professional who helped individuals evaluate the pine trees on their land in Mississippi.

When I was with my dad in the summer, we often went out into the woods, looking at trees in the midday heat. On one occasion, I was walking in front of him in a forest of pines. And as I went under a branch, I looked down right in front of me and saw, curled up in front of me, a rattlesnake! I was maybe two meters away from stepping on him, but he did not “rattle,” so I saw him before he was able to attack me. Whew!

On another adventure into the woods, we encountered a bramble of wild blackberries. They looked so delicious that we decided to pick as many as we could put in our caps. At lunch that day, in town, we added the blackberries to our order of vanilla ice cream at a small restaurant, and had a delicious treat.

At the time of this writing, the blackberries in my yard are coming to an end. After two months of berries, picked morning and evening, I have enjoyed berries every morning with yoghurt. And each morning, I remember my father and our outing in the forest. It is a pleasant memory that comes along with the taste of the berries every morning. Thanks Dad, for taking me out into the woods!

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