By my previous post, one might think I want those big, hulking, common blackberries that one can find growing on every side road in America.
Not so, my friends. I am a blackberry snob.
I want the little wild mountain blackberries, the ones worth their weight in gold...times 100.
They are that good!
And that hard to find.
Those precious tiny drops of heaven are what I really want. I will settle for the other when the little ones are scarce.
I have searched hither and yon, lagging behind my Mom, searching for the distinctive trailing vine of the Rubus Ursinus. It's back breaking work, with treacherous footing, and the threat of bears is actually pretty real, and I'd go right this minute if someone called to say they'd found a patch.
Some people are aware of what poison ivy looks like. For me, it's the little wild mountain blackberry. I'd know that prickly vine anywhere.