“First Berries”


Just after we moved into our home in 2001, we planted a few raspberry vines next to the garage. Since then the vines have grown into a full sized patch which runs the length of the garage and is hemmed in on one side by a brick walkway. Raspberry vines apparently like to spread out, and they even occasionally cross under the bricks and emerge on the other side. They profit from a heavy pruning each winter and grow back as though they had never been cut.

We grow two types of berries, the ones bearing now and the ones which come on in September. The summer ones have a sweet flavor, but the fall ones astound us each year with their full raspberry taste. Our grandchildren have been dropping by for a couple of weeks now, eating blueberries and asking if the raspberries were ripe yet. My husband dropped a full berry into my hand yesterday, signaling that they are beginning to be ready. They’re a  sure sign that summer is well underway in New England after an interminable winter and dreary spring.

Raspberries don’t keep well, so getting them at the store is a risky business. If they aren’t moldy it is probably because they weren’t really ripe enough to be picked. Here they only have to last from vine directly to mouth! They are an abundant blessing of summer, and I am grateful for them each year.

14 thoughts on ““First Berries”

  1. Freshly picked raspberries are delicious beyond words. We had a large patch growing up. In addition to the ones we would pick for immediate consumption, the rest would be made into fabulous jam or carefully washed and frozen individually and then bagged for a precious shot of summer over the long, cold winter.


  2. Raspberries are tricky and thorny with sweet flavour. Hope the grandchildren will have a field day of harvesting them.


      1. Believe it or not, I have never had a peach. The missing peaches in Atlanta is a local joke. Lots of streets named Peachtree, not an actual peach tree in sight. I’ve never seen one. They’re are plenty of peaches at the store though! 😂


        1. That reminds me of the Pittstown Tomato Festival where my daughter once lived. No tomatoes. It was an inside joke since the Mob had been very active there and they all said that they were tomato farmers!


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