Posts Tagged ‘berries’
red, red, red
Autumn, no doubt about it. When I go outside, I see red everywhere. The red of the leaves of red maple, many already on the ground. The red of the lily-of-the-valley berries. The red of the crab apples on our little tree at the end of the walkway. The red hips on the rose bush beside the driveway. Red, red, red.
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red, red, red
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each rose hip edge
an ellipse to complete
the curve of rambling canes
berries red, mellow to orange
the white shine, highlight, tipped
with the black remains of blossom,
once pink, now vermillion of vermis,
cinnabar, poisonous, mercuric, toxic
lily-of-the-valley, raceme of berries
dangle, vivid crimson blush, bright
spot on fevered cheeks, the child
thought the berries good to eat
scarlet sigillatus, decorated
small images, pixilations
of woman with camera
limps to reach third
red, ruby, purple
red crabapples
in bunches
hanging
in rain
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Copyright Jane Tims 2019
All my best,
Jane
moose
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moose
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square body
four hundred kilos
cow lifts her head, angular
stares at the car
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long ears maneuvre
in all directions
no challenge
dewlap swings
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cow returns to her business
prehensile lips
pulling leaves
and chokecherries
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We saw this moose on the way to our cabin, about a kilometre along the road. She stared at us for a while, eyes and ears curious, but eventually she returned to her feeding.
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All the berries are coming into ripe: chokecherries, blueberries and blackberries. At the cabin the blueberries are the largest and sweetest I have ever seen. Everywhere I picked showed evidence of an animal there before me. Not a moose. Perhaps a bear, not caring where he sat as long as he could scoop up those berries.
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All my best, Jane
Copyright August 2019
growing and gathering – value
These days I am working to complete my manuscript of poems on the subject of ‘growing and gathering’ local foods.
As I sort my poems, I find several are about the ‘value’ of wild plants as food.
Sometimes this value is simple value for money. Every cup of blueberries I pick is one I don’t have to buy. When I pick enough berries to freeze, I can have blueberries or blackberries when they cost a fortune to buy fresh at the store. I am also bringing the warm summer and its memories forward into the chill of winter.
A few of my poems focus on the value of substitution. For example, I will never run out of tea leaves for my daily tea break. I have Pineapple Weed, Sorrel and Sweet-fern teas to make. Thanks to my sister and brother-in-law, and my own little herb garden, I have a rack of fresh herbs drying, including Camomile and several varieties of Mint. If I run out of salad ingredients, I have a stash of salad greens just outside my door.
Storage is the subject matter of a few of my poems. When I was young, my Mom showed us how to collect Spruce Gum from the trees for a sticky but tasty chew. During my project, I learned that some woodsmen make little wooden boxes for the gum, to keep it for later use. I also have a few poems about making jelly and jam.
Thinking about the value of food, I can’t forget the people for whom growing and gathering local foods is an occupation, not just a ‘hobby’. I have written poems about the people who sell shad and fiddleheads and lobster from their roadside trucks, about children who earn their summer money by picking and selling berries, and, of course, about the farmer.
Last but not least, there is just the joy of finding or producing and eating your own food. I always say, the best part of a home garden is the taste of the first carrot or the snap of the first wax bean!
What do you think is the greatest value associated with growing and gathering local foods?
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.© Jane Tims 2012
accents in red
We are still in the greys and browns of spring.
There are a few wildflowers blooming. The Coltsfoot is spreading carpets of yellow along the roadside. And flowers in the deep hardwoods have begun to display their delicate beauty. But most places are drab and colorless.
I watch for red this time of year. There are a few red berries, still clinging to their branches after winter.
And the stems of Red Osier Dogwood (Cornus stolonifera Michx.) are brilliant in the fields and ditches.
My favorite ‘red’ of spring is the muted red of the blueberry fields.
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fancy
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the blueberry barren
is faded scarlet
red osier in ditches
rosebush and hawthorn
a single berry, a single haw
Earth in brown
toenails red
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© Jane Tims 2012
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