Russian Blackberries

Today I got ravaged foraging for blackberries. I was perfectly fine while I was on my own land, but as soon as I trespassed onto my Russian neighbour’s land to pick his riper fruit (his bushes face south) it was as if all his brambles had been instructed to punish any intruders. Thorns pressed into my knees and hands and nettles insinuated themselves into small apertures where clothing was unable to protect flesh. I don’t know why his brambles behaved so badly as he never picks his own fruit and I always offer an exchange to the birds for their berries. I give them titbits from my house (sunflower seeds, bread, apples) while I take only the ripest fruit from the bushes.

Anyway, I returned injured but triumphant with well over a kilo of beautiful blue-black fruit. Crumbles and bramble mousse will be emanating from my kitchen this autumn.

The Russian Neighbour has recently allowed a local farmer to graze sheep on his land and today the sheep (gorgeous chunky creatures) came rushing towards me as soon as they saw me. We just looked at each other and carried on with our activities. I felt safe in their presence and they seemed to feel the same way about me. Later I took them a big bucket of fresh water to their field as the water in their trough looked very green and unappetizing. They seemed to appreciate the gesture.

I’m learning a lot about the world at the moment. I’m re-reading ‘The Karamazov Brothers’ by Dostoevsky and I love it. I'd like to get to know my Russian Neighbour so we can talk about Fyodor Dostoevsky and Igor Stravinsky, Marc Chagall, Andrei Tarkovsky, Mikhail Bulgakov and so many other Russian artists who have inspired me...