FIRST THE FLOWERS, NOW THE BERRIES…
I’m about to share an unpopular opinion, and I’m going to post it anyway, because that’s apparently my whole personality these days.
I already spend a fair amount of time asking people to leave the wildflowers alone. Today, I’m raising the stakes! I’m asking you to leave the wild berries behind, too.
I know. I know. A plump, sun-warmed blueberry appearing out of nowhere on mile seven of a hot summer hike feels like a gift from the trail gods themselves. I understand the temptation on a cellular level. But hear me out…
A ripe blueberry or raspberry doesn’t stand a chance along thousands of miles of trail corridor when hungry hikers are treating every bramble patch like an all-you-can-eat buffet. But maybe, just maybe, I can sway the opinion of just one person… and, I say this with zero judgment, because I have absolutely been that hiker. I have foraged my way through entire sections of trail, (ummm… MAINE, right!?!), snacking on nature’s candy like I personally planted every bush myself.
For a while, I practiced wild foraging as a purposeful part of my diet (making bread from acorns was pretty much the end of it, but I digress). There is something genuinely empowering about knowing how to find, identify, and eat food straight from the land (ahem… without poisoning yourself, I might add). It’s a skill I still value tremendously, and one that could matter enormously in all kinds of future scenarios. I’m not here to tell you foraging is bad or that you should forget everything you know about which berries are ok and which will kill you.
My berry-picking days have mostly come to an end because it is a mere novelty to me, not a required food source. I have access to just about any food at any hour of the day or night. An absurd, almost embarrassing abundance of it, in fact. I can open a refrigerator, a pantry, a cabinet, or drive (ok, an hour, but still…) to a grocery store stocked with more options than any human actually needs. I feel enormous gratitude for that, and I certainly try never to take it for granted.
The wild animals in my woods do not have a refrigerator, or a pantry, or any backup plan if the blueberry bushes come up empty this week because a parade of hikers cleaned them out one handful at a time. They have raw survival instincts and whatever the land actually provides, shifting constantly between feast and famine as prey or predator, with absolutely zero margin for error.
So these days, I leave it all. Every ripe blueberry hanging low on the branch. Every plump blackberry waving at me from the end of a long bramble vine like it’s actually advertising its goods and wares. Because that berry isn’t really a snack for me. It’s dinner for someone who needs it.
To every bear, bird, raccoon, and creature I will never meet, quietly depending on that same bramble patch to get through the week…
May you never go hungry.
May you always have exactly what you need, right when you need it.
I am grateful, and I am leaving the berries. Just for you!