I have a love/hate relationship with blackberry season. The appearance of blackberry blossoms is one of the true first indications of spring, unlike the daffodils which can be deceiving. The blackberries usually start ripening, in this area, right around the summer equinox which means they are in full swing right around my birthday and the Fourth of July.
And year and year, I seem to forget how, although I adore these plump bright fruits growing wild in my backyard, picking them while sweltering in the early July heat and amidst the brambles makes me glad when the jam is done and the freezer has several quarts of whole berries the season is finished for the year.
Despite my lack of love for the heat and the inevitable scratches that cover my arms, there is little I enjoy as much as a bowl full of these black beauties waiting to be made into jam. (I also find it a bit humorous how difficult it is to photograph a bowl full of blackberries. They seem to blend together with what looks like eyes staring back at me.)
And the jam, oh that jam, we will be enjoying right through the winter and early spring when the heat of early July is a faded memory.