Berries I Have Eaten

Exactly one year ago, Leela and I visited Corvallis for about a week with the explicit purpose of checking out the town as a possible place to live. We liked what we found, in spite of the fact that we both got very sick -- some kind of flu.

The illness didn't keep us from exploring, though, and one of the wonders we discovered was blackberries. It happened to be the height of the season, and they were everywhere -- an invasive species, we were told. Animal instinct compelled me to gorge on the messy fruit. I climbed right into the thorny tangles. My body needed this; the appetite was like nothing I've experienced before or since, an intuitive somatic need for whatever antioxidant or other special curative nutrient the plant offered.

So I partook of the fruit of the invasive species, and thus became one myself. Now we've been living in Corvallis since February, and I've picked four kinds of berries, each in its luscious season:

• strawberries
• blueberries
• raspberries
• and lately blackberries again.

Except for the blackberries, these were all from you-pick-'em farms. I go crazy eating these little sweeties right off the plants. The blackberry plants are all over everywhere, including the park near our house. They're coming in late this year, as everything is, due to the protracted spring. I like the protracted spring.