growing and gathering – picking berries with friends
As I am deciding how to organise my poetry manuscript on ‘growing and gathering’ local foods, I am considering the themes of the various poems. I think these themes will become the sections in my manuscript.
One of the first themes to emerge, perhaps the easiest to examine, is about ‘relationships’.
Although I have often picked berries alone, my best memories are of picking berries with members of my family. Both my Mom and Dad loved to pick berries. My Dad was a fast picker and I was always in silent competition with him to pick the most berries… I never won. My Mom picked berries quickly, but took the time to enjoy the fresh air, the blue sky and the expanse of the berry field. When I think of picking berries with her, I feel calm and a little lazy. My relationship with my mother-in-law was also shaped by our many berry-picking experiences; when I pick raspberries, I hear her quiet laughter in the breeze.
As I write poetry for my ‘growing and gathering’ manuscript, I have explored my relationships with the various people in my life.
Some of these are based on real experiences I have had picking berries or gathering greens. Examples include poems about trying to find an old berry field, now grown over, or how changes in a relationship can be observed over the years in the annual picking of berries. Although most of the poems are about plants, I have included production of other local foods – so a poem about beekeeping, for example, explores how two people interact during a small emergency.
In other cases, the gathering of local foods is a metaphor for some aspect of a relationship, whether good and bad. At least some of these metaphors are related to the characteristics of plants or animals – for example, the serrated edges of leaves, the slipperiness of a trout, the gentle feel and fragrance of Bedstraw, or the bitterness of taste common to so many ‘salad’ greens.
Some of the metaphor is based on the place where plants grow. Examples include the seclusion of many berry-picking spots, or the physical spaces created by rows of corn plants.
As I look over the Table of Contents for my manuscript, I realise some poems will be stronger if placed within another theme. So I have moved, for example, a poem about picking berries over a three-week period from the theme on ‘relationships’ to a theme about ‘change’.
This consideration of the themes in my poetry has given me a good start to organising the poems, and identifying gaps I have to fill. I know now there are lots of gaps, and many poems yet to write!
~
~
Bitter Blue
~
of all the silvery summer days we spent none so warm sun on
granite boulders round blue berry field miles across hazy miles
away from hearing anything but bees
and berries
plopping in the pail
~
beside you I draped my lazy bones on bushes crushed berries and
thick red leaves over moss dark animal trails nudged between rocks
baking berries brown musk rising to meet blue heat
or the still fleet scent
of a waxy berry bell
~
melting in my mouth crammed with fruit sometimes pulled from
laden stems more often scooped from your pail full ripe blue pulp
and the bitter shock of a hard green berry never ripe
or a shield bug
with frantic legs
and an edge to her shell
~
~
Published as: ‘Bitter Blue’, Summer 1993, The Amethyst Review 1 (2)
Published on www.nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com on July 31, 2011
© Jane Tims 2012
Warning: 1. never eat any plant if you are not absolutely certain of the identification; 2. never eat any plant if you have personal sensitivities, including allergies, to certain plants or their derivatives; 3. never eat any plant unless you have checked several sources to verify the edibility of the plant.
nichepoetryandprose 
Excellent poem and drawing, Jane, and I also enjoyed very much your reflections on relationships attached to memories, or maybe that’s vice versa. One of my favorite memories is picking blackberries with friends when I was young, picking raspberries with my grandfather when I was even younger, and grand family blueberry picking times in Cape Breton, after which piles of pies were assembled – as the many nieces and nephews nursed their many blackfly bites, from flies that outnumbered the blueberries many times over! Thanks for the memories.
LikeLike
Jane Fritz
July 7, 2012 at 10:14 pm
Hi Jane. Thanks for sharing these memories with me. Black flies and horseflies are certainly part of the experience! Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 8, 2012 at 7:16 pm
Oh, and I loved the poem “greed” and the muttering of the sea. Made my memories of times at the shore echo in my head. Thank you.
LikeLike
seedbud
July 7, 2012 at 5:39 pm
Hi. I’m glad you like the poem. Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 8, 2012 at 7:15 pm
Jane, a wonderful post and poem. I am so much enjoying reading about your process with the manuscript.
LikeLike
seedbud
July 7, 2012 at 5:37 pm
Hi. More to come soon! Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 8, 2012 at 7:15 pm
I really like this post Jane. Your thoughts on berry picking, the lovely drawing, and oh gosh what a beautiful poem.
LikeLike
dearrosie
July 7, 2012 at 3:36 pm
Hi. Thanks! Your comments are very much appreciated! Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 8, 2012 at 7:14 pm
I also have wonderful memories of fresh berries. My father would often pick wild raspberries and blackberries in the early morning before he milked the cows. When I got up, there would be a bucket of berries sitting in the kitchen ready for us to eat for breakfast.
LikeLike
Sheryl
July 7, 2012 at 12:37 am
Hi. Sometimes we don’t realise how hard other people are working on our behalf…. Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 7, 2012 at 7:20 am
Jane, I love your poem…. I love your drawing too… The two of them together… What a lovely person they reveal in you!
LikeLike
snowbirdpress
July 6, 2012 at 5:42 pm
Hi Merrill. Thank you for your very kind words!!! Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 6, 2012 at 6:30 pm
I put it up on my Facebook page and I note that two fine poets I know also agreed that it’s really very good.
LikeLike
snowbirdpress
July 6, 2012 at 9:54 pm
Hi Merrill. Thanks! Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 7, 2012 at 7:19 am
Bitter Blue ( revised )
Summer lasts such a short time
Having to weed and pick berries just sublime
The fun of warm day just all of a sudden dropped
Enjoying play and leisure time just stopped
Off to follow mom and dad to pick the black, the ras, the staw,the blue berry
My gosh we would even go after the bitter and vile choke cherry
Each of us were assigned our own vessel or cup
If we did not pick then we would not later on berries get to sup
At least in the field we would eat our fill
Not being able to help fill the bucket not such a bitter pill
Luckily at the end of the day the desserts were real fine
Not sure I can say the same about my dad’s choke cherry wine
It seems the memories of picking are not so good
But if I could go back and share those moments again I am sure I would.
What brats I am sure we must have seemed
Not to always have mom and dad around, I never could have dreamed
The spontaneous poet
LikeLike
The Spontanteous Poet
July 6, 2012 at 11:57 am
Hi Spontaneous Poet… there is a ring of truth in your poem. Personally, I am delighted to report we have a bush of our own ‘bitter and vile’ choke cherries on our cabin lot this year. I am glad you know the times spent picking the berries with your mom and dad (and mine) are now good memories. Keep on spontaneous poeting!!!! Jane P.S. Did you recognise the reprobate berry pickers in my drawing????
LikeLike
jane tims
July 6, 2012 at 6:35 pm
A poet you may indeed be. Thank heavens your drawings protect the innocent
LikeLike
The spontaneous poet
July 7, 2012 at 9:33 am
Please visit again, spontaneous poet. Jane
LikeLike
jane tims
July 8, 2012 at 7:11 pm