Berry Picking
This past Sunday, my family and I visited the Eddyville Sand Prairie to pick some blackberries that my wife had noticed ripening while on a run. It was a little early, and most of the berries were not yet beginning to turn, but we were able to harvest enough for a pie and maybe some homemade ice cream as well.
Berry picking is how I spent a good portion of my summers in my teenage years. My brother and I would collect the black raspberries in June and blackberries later in July for our neighbors. We’d sell them fairly cheap, $5 per gallon, or take our payment in the form of jams, jellies, pies, and cookies.
Every day we’d be out picking. Sometimes we’d even visit our patches twice in a day to ensure we didn’t miss anything as they turned. We never wore shorts anywhere and rarely visited the public pool during berry season because of all of the cuts and scratches from thorns.
We were always aware of the berries and their timing, but rarely were we aware of the wildlife that also utilized them. Of course, being country boys, we were aware of the raccoons and deer that would eat the berries, and occasionally we’d flush out what must have been a Gray Catbird picking through our patch, but never did we stop to learn all of the birds we heard calling from nearby trees or stop to watch the other birds that relied on those berries.
With my new appreciation for nature, gained over the years as I learned my bird calls and plant identification, I experienced berry picking very differently this past weekend. Sure, I wanted to get as many ripe berries as I could for myself and my family, but I was also aware of the Yellow-breasted Chat singing form the wooded edge that would use the berries to feed their young. I heard the Yellow-billed Cuckoo waiting for his turn to scavenge the remaining spoils.
Ornate Box Turtles were on my mind as I navigated through the tangle of thorns and Poison Ivy, occasionally dropping a berry and thinking that it might become food for this locally endangered, and globally near threatened species. I noticed the blooming Butterfly Milkweed, Wild Bergamot, Wild Quinine, and Leadplant that create so much beauty among the prairie where I was picking.
Maybe most importantly, I thought about the lessons that I will teach my nearby daughter as she grows up picking berries with me on our wounded Iowa landscapes. How I can teach her to notice what I used to overlook. How missing a few berries is alright because they serve a purpose. How taking just enough is enough.
