Berries and blackbirds

In much the same way that constraints ease the process of making pictures, I have been trying out working under time conditions to help focus and practice writing. Below is a 20 minute exercise from the allotment, with a little bit of editing and work made in the studio in response. This was meant to have been sent out in June but I was away for a little bit, and now it’s July! Thanks for reading.

It’s Wednesday 25th June. I’ve been picking berries. Gooseberries today and currants yesterday. The freezer gradually filling by the week.

The gooseberries are a tricky pick with their sharp thorns scratching at my forearms as I reach in. Occasionally returning with a thorn or two still stuck in my skin. A lapse in attention leads to a full grasp of the needle-like tips, rather than the soft, fuzzy berries. Careful focus.

The branches drape themselves over the neighbouring currants, resting heavy in the crook of a branch. Reaching up into the cherry above, pulling themselves skywards with grappling spines. What started out as one bush is now many, the growing shoots arch into the soil and take root. Slowly, sneakily, trying to walk away from its bed.

Behind me, the blackbirds dart in and out of the juneberry bushes. Everyone’s picking fruit today. Their jet black bodies nestled amongst the silvery green foliage. Orange beaks picking the not-quite-ripe berries from the branches.

It looks as though they are darting between the bush and the hawthorn beyond. Maybe a nest up there? The frequency and fervour of their harvesting makes me think that they must have chicks in the nest. Hungry mouths. Hungry for sour, hard berries, apparently.

As I glance up from my own picking they hurriedly shoot out from the bush - pink berry in beak. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a ripe juneberry1. We planted the bushes about 5 years ago. They’re sometimes called shadwood, saskatoon or serviceberries. It’s nice to know that they are providing just that.