Wickedness amongst the blackberries

It’s 29th September - Michaelmas - and an absolutely beautiful morning: misty, sunlight easing through the mists and lighting up the cobwebs on the gorse bushes. The holly, hawthorn and wild roses are bright scarlet with berries, hips and haws - perhaps we’re in for a hard winter this year.

We’ve got fairy rings of field mushrooms keeping me in breakfasts, but someone else beat me to the delicious parasol mushrooms I’d had my eye on. Not to mention the little patch of liberty caps which have now mysteriously disappeared.

It is Michaelmas, however, and there is definitely wickedness about. Folklore has it that blackberry season ends today, when the Devil marks the anniversary of being thrown out of heaven by popping along to spit on the blackberries, leaving them inedible. (Some say ‘piss’, but that would be rude.)

Sure enough, overnight he’s done his worst …

Best not eat anymore blackberries

this year, folks!