Sir, – One of the greatest joys of an autumn country stroll is feasting on blackberries in the hedgerows.
Despite the reluctance of summer, this year’s bounty is rich. As Seamus Heaney wrote in his poem, Blackberry-Picking: “You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet/ Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it/ Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for/ Picking.”
So don’t store “the fresh berries in the byre”, gorge instead to your heart’s content before the moment passes. – Yours, etc,
TOMÁS FINN,
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