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One of our favorite times of the year is black raspberry season. We first discovered the tasty treat a few years ago and have enjoyed several seasons of foraging it together. Sometimes, we’d be able to harvest enough to make jam and lemonade and muffins out of the excess, but this year, between the scorching temperatures and little rain, black raspberry season was very brief.

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Sunday afternoons, we enjoy taking walks around the property, to see how things are growing, make sure the animals are all healthy, and to see what’s new. This time, we took an old ice cream bucket with us and started on the west side, picking and eating what few berries we could find.

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Then, we cut through the ravine to the east side, which is always an adventure of its own. If I had time and money for lumber, I’d build a sweet bridge over the entire thing. Not that I don’t enjoy a challenging hike but sometimes, I just want to get from one place to the other.

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Jack helped everyone down, one by one, and we scrambled up the other side, with the dog and cats happily following.

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Though the ravine is just a sliver of a forest, it’s amazing how many different forms of life it supports. There were raccoon and deer prints, edible mushrooms, flowers, insects, toads, frogs, and plenty of poison ivy. It wouldn’t be Indiana without it, I guess.

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“Look! Cat pawprints!” Um, I think you mean raccoon…

 The other side is part of the pasture, which is lined with raspberries and a couple of mulberry trees. Jack barely helped me and Zoey through the fence before the kids were in the treetops, eating mulberries that were just ripening.

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 Sometimes, the kids needed a little help and were appreciative of the boost up.
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 Or, more effective, is to bring the branches to the kids so they can go at it in a free-for-all. First come, first serve as long as the kids are concerned.
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Always on the lookout for a free meal, the horses meandered over to see if we were in fact, picking sugar cubes or carrots or sweet feed off the tree. Satisfied that we weren’t secretly eating their favorite treat without them, they settled for a scratch on the nose.

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Walking along the last fenceline, there were only a handful more berries worth picking. Hot, tired, and stained with berries, we decided to call it quits.

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When I suggested popsicles, they ran inside. Happily.
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Though our black raspberry season was short this year, we still got a taste. Maybe next year we’ll have another boon and I’ll be back to making jam and smoothies with the excess.

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Any berries that we had picked, Zoey finished off.
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So, until next year, berries!
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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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