Do you know the protecting patron saint of Rubus occidentalis (black raspberry)? It’s the mosquito! Or it could be stinging nettle or poison ivy.
How do I know that? Years of experience and lots of itching! Maybe it’s because the juice of the black raspberry is blood red that mosquitoes are always hovering around them—not that the berry itself does not have significant protection of its own! Last evening, however, the weather was just about perfect for a walk to the raspberry patch, and this is the height of the three weeks or so when the berry is perfect for picking. So with my belt bucket, I meandered down our relatively urban road to what you might call a gentleman’s berry patch. Thanks to the lawn service, a neatly mowed strip of grass lies between the road and the plants that
have volunteered in abundance hardly a half mile from our place. All one needs to do is lean in and pick, but it is indeed best to wear a long-sleeved shirt and, for baldies like me, wear a hat—which I did not!
So it was watch out for the nettles, the thorns, and the poison ivy and pick a handful of berries—then drop them in the bucket and swat the mosquitoes on my arms and noggin. And do it again until you can no longer find berries ripe enough to tickle off the stem. It’s important to select the blackest of berries that come off easily, because if they are still tinged with red and have to be coaxed from the bush, they’ll not yet be sweet enough for the best eating. I got a little more than two pints in about a half hour—berries, not mosquitoes. Though the bugs tried, they got no pints from me.
Then it was back home where the ice cream was waiting in the fridge for a top-notch midsummer night’s snack. Keep in mind that these were black raspberries, not blackberries. And there’s a major difference in taste between the two regardless of the biases of regional wild plant experts. When I was in the San Juan Islands, where the blackberry (Rubus ursinus or Rubus armeniacus), salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis), and thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus) reign, I was reading about them in the regional wild plant guide, and they said that the blackberry was “delicious”—and that black raspberries (som
etimes called blackcaps) were “edible.” Edible?! You gotta be kidding; they’re scrumptious. Had those western experts ever really tasted eastern Rubus occidentalis?
We have blackberries here too, but they don’t hold a candle to the black raspberry, which does not have that peculiar tangy aftertaste you get from a blackberry right off the vine. Maybe in a pie well sugared there is little difference, but, in my book, fresh from the bush, the only Rubus that comes close in deliciousness is the domesticated red raspberry.
Not that I really have an opinion about this.
See you outdoors!
Dean
July 13th, 2009 at 9:47 am
Black Raspberrys look great on ice cream. Will have to try that soon. My choice is still the blackberry, just part of my redneck upbringing I suppose. But regardless, ripe fruit picked from the prickly bushes is always tasty.
My dilemma is where does the mosquito fit into the wonder of creation. Being outdoors so much, I’m kind of used to them, but when you think about it, does their existence make sense? I’ve gotten past the question of snakes, but haven’t quite reached any good conclusion about the mosquito. I suppose those of you all in the northern parts of the country ask about the black flies, while others ask about the varmints in other locales.
Not questioning the wisdom of the Father in this, just wondering what purpose they provide other than their peskiness is just another way of having to resort to the mercy of the Lord Jesus (and that’s not a bad reason for them after all!)
Bob
July 13th, 2009 at 11:21 am
At this point in scientific research apparently the most we know is that the mosquito makes up the diet of several birds, bats, and larger insects. But since we are “east of Eden” and under the curse, for all we know they may be (or at least their huge numbers) the result of either the Fall or the curse. However, since massive amounts of mosquitoes inhabit the wilderness areas, say the tundra, where there are few humans and large warm-blooded animals to feed them all on blood, we could assume that they have an ecological role to fulfill that we have not identified. Or there could well be long-standing ecological imbalances that have made the mosquito a larger problem than they might be. As one wise naturalist said, “Ecosystems are not only more complex than we think, they are more complex than we can think.”
Which brings to mind the question: “Do you know the state bird of Alaska?” It’s the mosquito! The story is told there of a young aircraft service attendant who absent-mindedly filled a mosquito with aircraft fuel when he was supposed to fill the helicopter next to it! A lot of mosquitoes in Alaska weigh a pound—but you do have to collect a lot of them! And while I’m on a facetious run here, I do have to propose this next question: “Do you know what the Alaska state wine is?” “I waaant to go to Hawaii!” (That works best of course spoken and not written since the wine in question is actually spelled ‘whine.’”)
July 13th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
Uh, the state bird of Alaska is the Alaska Willow Ptarmigan. A few internet sites list the mosquito as the “unofficial” state bird (but who’s arguing?)
If those things really get to be a pound???? I’m staying in the south!! They will itch you silly here, but no mistaking them for a helicopter.
I did read that although they have a lot of mosquitoes up there and about a dozen varieties, they don’t carry disease. Just itch!
I understand that school children in Alaska voted on the state insect, and a type of dragonfly won over the mosquito, but not by much. They must actually like those things up there.
I have a niece and nephew who live in Alaska (not brother and sister, and they live in different parts of the state), and they love it there. Had a brother in law who developed heart disease while living in Palmer AK, and doctors advised him to return to the 48 because life in Alaska was too rugged for him anymore.
I’ve never been, but sure would like to someday. Keeping DEET at hand just in case I get there.
Bob