7.14.26 | Becca's Berries
I find it hard not to talk about the weather these days. Having several days in a row of temperatures above 100 degrees has become my go-to conversation starter. I voice my fears about the extremes, and inevitably someone says, “This is the coolest summer we will have going forward.” As a result, I find myself thinking, "I don't want to adapt, but I probably should.”
My blackberries have become an example of this very idea.
I have been growing thornless blackberries ever since my mom gave me a couple of plants as a wedding gift back in 2014. They have done quite well over the years without any watering or feeding. I'm sure I would have had better production if I had irrigated and fertilized, but I wanted to see how they would do with minimal intervention. However, the last couple of years they have been producing less and less, and I've been thinking that it's time to move them. Perhaps they want different soil, perhaps they need different sun exposure but mostly because my mom says that they like to travel.
Peak production has always aligned with our wedding anniversary, but this year they were decimated by the heat wave during the first week of July, right when the fruit was getting ready to mature. I think the lack of irrigation really hurt, and I expect the extreme UV didn't help either. On top of that, the deer have discovered that the leaves are quite tasty. Every morning I see more destruction. I find I get so affected by these little gardening failures and then I have to remind myself that I need to adapt, I need to modify my methods of tending to these plants.
And so, on my anniversary, the blackberries will travel! I will be moving the plants to a spot in the garden that is protected by a deer fence and where they will receive regular waterings and some compost. I know it's not the right time to transplant; I really should wait until they start to go dormant in the fall, but I'm afraid that the damage from the deer will be worse than the shock of the move.
This year's yield will give me a couple of quarts of berries, and that will be all. So you won't see "Becca's Blackberries" on the menu this summer (I'm keeping the few that I have for myself), but hopefully you will in 2027! And maybe they will taste even sweeter than previous versions because of the added care and attention.
Perhaps this arc of emotions I have experienced over the blackberries is a template for other tribulations I will most certainly encounter in the future:
Yucky thing happens and depression ensues
Formulate a potential solution
Execute said solution
Bask in the feeling of satisfaction and hope
Ha!
—Becca