Village Life

I took a walk to the next village yesterday afternoon. It's just a couple of miles and is a really nice walk, it's quite peaceful and I don't do it often enough. On the way there I noticed that blackberries were starting to ripen and decided to pick them on the way home. I stole myself a bag from the Co-Op and wandered my way back towards the brambles. The fruit near a road never grows quite as well, apparently the exhaust fumes stunt their growth. But there I stood, slowly turning my hands a pretty shade of purple as my paltry collection of blackberries slowly grew.

An older lady was walking purposely towards me, when someone she knew pulled up and offered her a lift, but she declined and walked on just a short distance further beyond me. She turned and came back past me, I raised my head for a smile and the required nod and greet. Apparently she had terrible indigestion and was trying to walk it off.

Then a gentleman and his dog walked towards me. He too stopped, we were both amazed, that with this weather there were any ripe fruits at all. But he suggested that even my tiny blackberries would make a wonderful pie. I said mine were heading for the world of apple & blackberry crumble.
This is what I love about village life. People don't just avert their gaze and stride past you. There are smiles and conversation.

And as a postscript. I picked blackberries, from thorny bushes, and didn't receive a single injury. Wonders really may never cease.