Blackberries. I love them. I never, ever, NOT EVER buy them. I wait until the time is right for foraging, frantically picking as many as possible, for as long as the season allows. Then, I gorge myself on autumnal crumbles (with lashings of custard). It’s been something of a tradition for the Hubby and I since we moved to Harrogate.
We live close by to an old disused railway, which used to be lined with hoards of brambles. Unfortunately, the path has been flattened out with Tarmac to allow access for bicycles. In doing so, all the brambles have pretty much been wiped out, and what used to be a peaceful, leisurely stroll, with barely a soul in sight, is now all about saving your neck from bicycles zooming past. And don’t even get me started on the dog walkers who don’t pick up after their canines! I do get rather vexed by it. Can you tell!?
We don’t stay on the cycle path, and instead divert ourselves into one of the fields towards the River Nidd, where there are no bikes clipping your ear, and it is much more peaceful! Thankfully, here the brambles have remained untouched and the patch seems to go on forever!
It’s such a lovely tradition to continue to do with the boys too. They have so much fun, and are guaranteed to come home with purple hands, purple chops and clothes from all the blackberries that found their way into their mouths whilst picking.
There are also a few apple trees that we pick from, which are the perfect companion to the blackberries.
Do you have any foraging traditions that you carry out every year?