There are hundreds of blackberries ripening on the lot we own along the River Philip. Enough to make a berry-blend jam. The only problem is most of the bushes are growing on the steep, near-vertical bank.
It's a marvelous river bank: blackberry bushes and wild rose bushes, an apple tree and several mature poplars. A fox den just over the edge of the edge. But that drop to the shore! Leaning forward to reach some plump ripe berries, my feet almost firmly planted on the edge, I thought how unpleasant it would be to roll down the side of the bank, right through the briar patch. Just in case, I kept the lid firmly shut on my container of berries. I might lose my footing but I wasn't going to lose what was worth the death by a thousand prickles.
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