The blackberries gleam like glass,
like the glass ornaments
we hang on trees in December
From ‘Blackberries’ by Margaret Atwood
While most of Europe appeared to be on fire according to the British news, England squelched through the soggiest July in forever. Now that August has (mostly) become a tad warmer again, I have taken advantage of the sunshine to venture abroad – and by that I mean, outside the house. No passport required.
Those grey, rainy days sap my soul, and the feeling of confinement has been frustrating. More often than not on such days, I end up back in front of the screen tapping out words, when I know I could really benefit from a good dose of fresh air.
My last expedition was a familiar walk across the fields and through the woods; a mixture of shady glades and open sunny splashes. It felt good to stretch my legs, lift my head and breathe the goodness of nature again.
As if that wasn’t pleasure enough, I discovered that the first blackberries are appearing. Thanks to the deluge last month, many of them are fatter and juicier than ever. Taking a somewhat battered old ice cream container with me was all the preparation required. In one outing, I had filled it to the top while walking less than a mile. I returned home juice-stained and scratched, but very satisfied. No one else seemed interested in gathering these dark jewels of wonderfulness, so there was no competition. True, the birds had got to a couple before me, but nothing serious.
You can tell a great deal about people by the way they go blackberrying. Some people stick to one area until every last delicious morsel has been harvested. Others flit from glittering crop to glittering crop without any pattern at all. I’m convinced it says something about how their brains work. My own methodical approach (no surprise there), means that a steady picking can reap great rewards.
Already there are little bags of black magic nestled amongst the other more pedestrian goodies in the freezer, awaiting colder days when their sharp tang will be savoured. Before then, I plan at least one more excursion during which I will endeavour to pick enough for a weekend treat of blackberry and apple crumble which will be served with lashings of hot custard. This is the king of puddings as far as I’m concerned, but more especially, my Dad’s favourite back in the day. I always think of him when I get the chance to indulge in one.
In between all this foraging in the hedgerows, I’ve had my head down, editing the next non-fiction book before a season of busy travel begins. We head to the USA and Canada next week, so these last few days before we leave are an opportunity to tie up some loose ends and clear the ‘to do’ list, if such a thing is ever possible (I fear it is not).
I’ve had the joy of reading three manuscripts by other writers over the last couple of months, which has been refreshing: two devotionals, and one children’s book; all so different from one another, but all exhibiting the wonderful creative gifts of friends as they express themselves so eloquently through the medium of words. Another friend has been talking animatedly about a new season in her creative life as she paints and exhibits extraordinary pictures, which all have their own story, while others pursue their dreams and nurture their talents in design and textiles.
For myself, Polished Arrows will be published in April 2024; a worthy follow-up to Spiritual Feasting, I hope. The second children’s collection, Charlie Peach’s Pumpkins and other stories, is finally with the designer, so I’m trusting that will be available before too long as well. I have a piece in a new Christmas devotional anthology based on a Jesse tree (following the family line of Jesus through the Bible), which is scheduled for publication in October, ready for the seasonal market. There’s a magazine article coming in Authentic magazine very soon exploring the challenge of waiting, and I’ve begun contributing to a new online magazine for writers called, Writer’s Narrative.
In other words, life is full and I’m not bored yet!
I’m so grateful that I can write regardless of geography and am looking forward to the autumn season across the pond and then back in South Africa, interspersed with with a quick trip back to the UK for a Steadfast event in Berkshire, and the Book Blest Christian book festival in Stroud at the beginning of November.
In the meantime, I think I’ll take a breath and go for a walk!
Thanks to Unsplash for images from: Amanda Hotiz, Valeria Terekhina, Duncan Kidd and Shelley Pauls
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