Filed under: Local Chemistry (Recipes)
When I pulled up to Charlie’s house, I was greeted by a robin. She was sitting on the fence. I could hear her, really. She said, “Where’ve ya been? These raspberries need picking! There are too many for me!” I looked at the robin. Could it be true? Too many raspberries?
Charlie was away and I’d been in New England with my son. Yes, I had neglected the raspberries. But I thought about them. Sitting on the train through Boston, thinking, “What about those raspberries?” Driving through the Green Mountains of Vermont, thinking, “I hope the raspberries can wait.” Walking on a road in the Berkshires that crossed from Massachusetts into New York, tart raspberries growing wildly on the side of the road, thinking, “Will the raspberries be okay?”
For the first time I can remember, I was overwhelmed with the abundance of raspberries facing me. Two and half hours later, the robin had long since left me and I had picked until the light was too dim. I had barely made a dent in the berries.
I carried my pans and pails over to the car, my back aching. That was a lot of raspberries. What was that on my windshield? A bird had visited my car and left droppings on the window — and it was mostly raspberry seeds! I laughed, got in, ate a raspberry, and drove home.
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