This time a year ago I blogged about bilberries. I picked all twelve of them. So when this year I discovered that I also have cowberries, a few feet away from the bilberries, I was quite pleased. I found at least thirty tiny red berries, so red seems to do better than blue. Haven’t yet worked out what to do with my harvest.
Cowberries often go by the name of the red gold of the wood, and people pick them by the bucketful. Unlike cranberries, which I understand are cultivated, I think all cowberry preserves sold originate in the wild. I obviously have some way to go towards even a first bucket.
I also have tame, but aggressive, blackberries, that are so thorny I can barely get close enough to pick. And two apple trees full of apples, not ready to pick. Am leaving the mushrooms alone, in case they are toadstools. Magnificent size, whatever they are, which may be due to the very wet summer.
The apples already on the ground, have been carted up to the woods by the Resident IT Consultant, where I hope they will feed either the deer or, preferably, a passing elk or two. With a bit of luck we can have punch drunk, enormous beasts cavorting round the garden.
This isn’t about books, either, unless you count the cookbook I’ll need to sort out the future of thirty cowberries.