Dusk in the blackberry patch

In the space between busy highways, dikes and fences separate adjacent farmlands from the waterfowl refuge of the Serpentine Fen. The distant roar of traffic is still audible here in the wetlands, but the feeling is quiet and reflective.

Herons, ducks and geese fly in low formations, the sound of their wings audible before they splash down. The wooden footbridge gives a good view of the largest duck pond. The trail beside it is screened by tall grasses and cattails.

In the late summer dusk I pick some of the blackberries that flourish on their thorny briars, between the wildflowers and silken grasses that flank the trails.

Humans are not the only ones to eat from this profusion of fruit. At dusk, rabbits scamper beneath the bushes seeking their share, and the coyote scat by the trail is full of seeds.

An evening in the wild blackberry patch returns me to a quieter, more rural past, and the fragrant, juicy, sun-ripened fruit feeds body and soul.