Tag Archives: blackberries

What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

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What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

Summer can bring a frenzy of activity like the hummingbirds with their multiple flights to the sugar-water feeders. Dean is filling those feeders with his homemade recipe every 7 – 8 days. The finches and sparrows are the same with the suet blocks we put out. Fattening up, those birds of song. Summer blooms and songs all around. I read about blackberries, bees, and honey. I sit, observing from our cottage’s windows, taking it all in this week while recovering from COVID. This morning, I am feeling well enough to walk outside in the midst of the sights and sounds. Sunday’s sermon will be given courtesy of Mother’s Nature. The biscuit & gravy chef made a plate for me this morning. My last day of quarantine will be a beautiful one. How blessed I am.

While the rains water and the sun warm the earth, this is what the heart knows as the summer blooms: it is good to sit awhile to reflect and pray. I pray for my children and grandchildren. My disabled daughter who lost their house in a fire 1-1/2 years ago is living in a huge travel trailer on her husband’s family farm. Not quite the 3-bedroom house they were accustomed to. A final insurance settlement is almost completed. “Please God not another day of delay for them and give them wisdom on the best ways to spend these provisions.” My other daughter who fought and beat breast cancer in her early 30’s still struggles with brain fog after treatments. “Please God, clear her thoughts to see the next steps to take and the fortitude to walk those steps.” My son, who struggles with mental health challenges, like so many of us do. “Please God bring clarity and assurance of Your love for him. and each of us”

Take a walk in your neighborhood gardens and snap some green beans with your grandma today. I guarantee you will feel better.

Sweet Berry Kisses

Off to the blueberry bushes and blackberry brambles I am sent,

into the strawberry patch squishing overripe berries between my toes.

A painter’s palette smeared like rouge onto my cheeks

and all phalanges match my berry-stained face, lips, and tongue.

These delicious delectables satisfy my tummy’s rumbles

while the morning’s sun seals the sweet berry kisses to my lips.

Picking berries, berries, and more berries is my morning chore,

so, most make their way into Auntie’s heavy handled shiny bucket.

Pies, crisps, cobblers, buckles, and biscuits smothered with berry jams,

these Auntie anticipations as she twiddles her thumbs awaiting.

Down the garden path Auntie comes with a rabbit behind and bees a buzzing,

to lend a hand at picking plump berries into her long-handled metal pan.

Before noon into her kitchen baking oozing, finger-licking berry hand pies;

Oh, these juicy jewels create the sweetest berry kisses to my lips.

Anna Gall

May 4, 2024

An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

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An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

Autumn comes in with a cool morning and the promise of warmth by noon with the full sun. A London Fog tea latte is calling my name. The leaves are turning golden with oranges and amber peeking through already. I am reminded of the abundance of autumn with berries plump, zucchini and yellow squash almost the size of a toddler’s leg, and the many varieties of tomatoes overflow the gardens and baskets. I read this poem many years ago and always enjoy reading it again every September …

Blackberry Eating by Galway Kinnell
I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry — eating in late September.

The other fruit to take notice of this autumn is the persimmon. The Old Farmer’s Almanac isn’t predicting a terribly cold autumn for the Midwest, but what about winter? The persimmon seeds are supposed to tell us what kind of winter we are to have. Look for the persimmons to be ripe soon in your area, if not already. Missouri is to have a spoon winter. According to this article with the Old Farmer’s Almanac here is how to predict weather with a persimmon seed:

1. Find a locally-grown persimmon. (A locally-grown persimmon is necessary because it will reflect local conditions!) Wait to pick the fruit or cut into the fruit until after it gets a bit soft—almost mushy.

2. Open the fruit and cut open a persimmon seed. 

3. Look at the shape of the kernel inside:

  • If the kernel is spoon-shaped, expect plenty of snow to shovel.
  • If it is fork-shaped, plan on a mild winter with powdery, light snow.
  • If the kernel is knife-shaped, expect frigid winds that will “cut” like a blade.

I hope you enjoy your autumn and all it entails in your part of the world. It will prepare us for the next season, the winter whatever that may bring. There is a season for everything …

“There is a season (a time appointed) for everything and a time for every delight and event or purpose under heaven—” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1