For some people it's pure bred dogs, or show horses, or it's prize winning roses; if we bump it up a few notches, it could be art collections, or antique cars; but for me, it's simply berries. The patches are small, require little work, and bring only seasonal enjoyment, but there is nothing like picking one's own berries for breakfast and even sharing a few. This morning, I watched a fat robin red-breast swoop down, land in a red raspberry bush and pluck a whole berry for herself. I was mildly annoyed, but realized all good things need to be shared. Abundant blessings require a payback and for me on this June morning, it's our mama bird.
A few weeks ago, I discovered her nest built in a hillside tree. Even though she built the nest high in a crevice of two adjoining limbs, it is eye level with the pool. Each time we swim, we can bend over the fence and almost reach out and touch mama bird. She diligently sat on her nest; when she flew away, she exposed her eggs. Soon the baby birds, scrawny, unfeathered, helpless, appeared. We'd pick up the children and bring them close. Away she flew and we watched the babies stretch their necks, gaping beaks, searching for a worm, and every once in a while, we witnessed mama bird drop one into their hungry mouths.
Last night while I was swimming with my daughter and her guests, I joyfully watched as she, like me, pointed out the birds, then climbed out of the pool to bring an eight year old closer to the nest.
A few berries is a small price to pay for the nature show so close and convenient, for the reminder of the cycle of life.
The boysenberry patch--the birds' favorite, so this year I covered the patch with netting.
As a child, boysenberry syrup was my favorite; these little gems are perfectly sweet and Knott's Berry syrups can't compete.
Long sleeve shirts and gloves are a necessity when picking.
The symbiotic relationship of a garden, birds, bees, earthworms and the gardener-everyone working together to further nature's treasures. I once read that the chirping of birds, the beat and melody, has an effect on the growing plants. Since having bees in the yard, the berry production has at least tripled.
A few weeks ago, I discovered her nest built in a hillside tree. Even though she built the nest high in a crevice of two adjoining limbs, it is eye level with the pool. Each time we swim, we can bend over the fence and almost reach out and touch mama bird. She diligently sat on her nest; when she flew away, she exposed her eggs. Soon the baby birds, scrawny, unfeathered, helpless, appeared. We'd pick up the children and bring them close. Away she flew and we watched the babies stretch their necks, gaping beaks, searching for a worm, and every once in a while, we witnessed mama bird drop one into their hungry mouths.
Last night while I was swimming with my daughter and her guests, I joyfully watched as she, like me, pointed out the birds, then climbed out of the pool to bring an eight year old closer to the nest.
A few berries is a small price to pay for the nature show so close and convenient, for the reminder of the cycle of life.
Golden berries--everyone's favorite
Black raspberries--in all stages of ripening--but only delicious when dark, dark, purple
Leftovers from this mornings picking
Covering has paid off
Hidden within the vines