Gather ye rosebuds ...

- or ye blackberries - while ye may. This morning, Lu and I strolled down to the convict cemetary to collect some berries for tonight's dessert but there were few to be had. Two weeks ago the brambles were laden with plump, shiny, multi-faceted nuggets but today most were small or withered and generally uninspiring. Once again I was sorry I didn't make the most of this pleasure while it sat just down the road and around the corner. When we were both about to leave Brisbane (for Canberra and Tas., respectively) , my friend Paul and I were thrilled at the prospect of brambles in our future gardens. They seemed both exotic and nostalgic. But now that I live among them I take them for granted. Saying to Lu, "There'll be no more blackberries this year", shocked me; I can be awfully offhand about things I once valued.

For the first time in a long time I wore a jumper as I drank my morning coffee on the back step. While we were out, Lu picked up an orange leaf to take home to her dad. The soft red of the autumn raspberries are brightening the patch by the back fence. These things don't mark a change in seasons but they do remind me that a change in seasons is coming and soon I'll look back on this summer with longing. Down among the brambles, in her jeans and a sweat shirt, Lu looked like a kid, not a baby. Seeing her there reminded me that when we don't go down the road to pick the berries, I'm not just missing out on fruit for a crumble - other, sweeter things will soon fade with the seasons.



Eating from the garden: tomatoes on toasted sandwiches for lunch; (planning) tomatoes slowly stewed with basil on pasta for dinner; apples - but no blackberries - in a crumble for dessert; raspberries and cherry tomatoes for snacks.