How is it
that here in West Virginia, with snow still on the ground, we’re in our
shirtsleeves and searching for berries? The
brambly thicket behind the greenhouse has needed attention since last autumn
when the biomass had diminished enough to see what was really growing in
there. To be honest, it has needed
attention since last spring, when it seemed that one day everything was just
starting to green up and the next it was burgeoning into a verdant mass worthy
of a painting by Jean Jacques Rousseau. But
today, a rare winter day of blue skies and mild breezes, is really the perfect
day to find the wineberries.
On our place
and the surrounding acres there are several patches of bramble fruits - black
raspberries, blackberries and wineberries.
They stretch along old fence lines and tumbled fieldstone walls, and
spread into the dappled light under medium growth hackberries, poplars, black
walnuts and pignuts (a sort of hickory).
Most are out in the far fields, away from the activities near house and
barn, and so are frequented by all the wild berry pickers. Deer and raccoons, rabbits and possums, field
mice and all the wild birds from titmouse to crow, love the berry buffet.
But the
thicket we are tackling grew up around a section of old board fence, the
boundary between the farm buildings and an area of open woodland known as ‘the
chicken woods.’ It has been protected a
bit by its proximity to buildings busy with humans, barn cats and farm
dogs. In berry season it is shaded
during the hottest part of the day, and after a rain it catches a bit of
additional runoff from nearby roofs. It
is the perfect spot for a wineberry patch.
We wade into
the tangle with loppers and saw, removing ancient gnarled grapevines and wiry
greenbrier. Most of the multiflora rose
(a rampant invasive species around here) is ousted, though we leave a few
selected canes to grow and bloom and perfume the first warm nights of
summer. What we are most carefully avoiding are the fiercely bristling red canes of the wineberries. Their arches are long, eight or nine feet, and
covered in insidiously fine thorns. Though we are in our shirtsleeves, we are
also outfitted with thick leather gloves. We probably should be wearing face
protectors too.
Like other
brambles, wineberries are perennials, with new fruit coming on last year’s
canes. The problem is, we didn’t tackle
the thicket last year to cut back the canes that had finished fruiting. So we have to leave as many as we can if we
hope to see fruit this summer. We’re
trying to make up for our year of neglect, clearing away the strangling vines
and the competition of the small maple and locust trees that have
already made some headway under the shelter of the thicket. On this unwintry day we’re braving the thicket
and thorns. We’re trying to give this special patch every advantage, so come
June there will be wineberries for cobblers and tarts, wineberries for sauces
and jams, and wineberries to eat by the handful standing in the summer sun.
Image thanks to Somers Pioneer History
