Where the Wild Foods Are

Last night, Charlie took me for a turn about his parents’ garden, showing me the beans, and the tomatoes, and the broccoli and the onions. There’s been a small first harvest of green beans, and the tomatoes are coming in, so there will be plenty in the next few weeks.

As we were observing the way things grow, Uncle Rich, my in-laws’ neighbor, waved Charlie and I over and asked if Charlie wanted fruit on his cereal in the morning. He hailed us to get some containers and pick blackberries off if his bushes.

Uncle Rich’s garden is more of a wild delightful snarl of food-bearing plants, rather than the tidy rows that you would see in a Martha Stewart magazine, and I think that for Uncle Rich and Aunt Sue, it’s perfect. To access the berry bushes, Charlie and I had to duck under strings tied up high to keep the deer from jumping in, and push aside heavy vines of Noble Giant spinach that blocked the way.

In the next phase of my life, when I am finished with my MBA, and Charlie and I have our own bit of land carved out, I can’t wait to grow my own eggplant, Noble Giant spinach, heirloom tomatoes, and let the back part of the garden give up to the wild berry bushes. But for now, there’s Uncle Rich’s garden, and a bucket full of bursting ripe blackberries to keep me sated.

Pickin' Berries