Thirty years ago blackberry picking was a competitive sport. Like small boys trying to get the best conkers, blackberries were picked before they were ready, otherwise someone else would get to them first. Now you can walk past a bush, even at a busy spot, and there will be berries close to hand, no need to hazard pricks and scratches to get to that ripe one just out of reach or risk your health with those at dog leg height.
On a summers walk, what joy to be able to dine on a handful of juicy berries instead of a sip of warm water. So thanks to all of you who can’t tell a fruit from a mobile phone, who prefer to buy your insipid cultivated blackberries from a supermarket and leave the wild tasty berries for those of us who enjoy the delight of a free meal and stained fingers. We are children once again.
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