This morning was a cool 65 degrees with a light mist falling, a perfect day for picking blackberries.
The blackberries were ripening rapidly, and earlier reconnaissance told me where to find the best patches.
The vines were over six feet tall, and the berries would be picked one at a time. There would be blood!
The red ones would await another day…
Back at the house, my mother’s sixty year old colander held the day’s bounty. This batch would be in the cobbler for my family reunion in August.