Yet another wet and dark weekend in the summer that never was, meant that summits would have to wait - instead we turn our attention to smaller things and we head to the woods in search of tiny treasures.
I once read in a well known foraging book that picking bilberries is not worth the effort - indeed it does take a long time to collect a small amount of food but to me therein lies the allure. We are not in a rush in the woods, anything that forces us to linger for longer is a good thing. Besides as is so often the way, although we may be seeking bilberries we often find other wonders along the way.
Bilberry bushes hide their secrets well - the trick is to get down low and look underneath the leaves so that the little fruits are silhouetted against translucent backlit leaves. An added bonus to this method is a closer proximity to the creatures that scurry and scuttle along the woodland floor, plus a chance to breathe in the earthy aroma of the rich soil beneath our feet.
We have hunted for bilberries every year since I can’t remember when. Despite an association with the north there were a few places down south where we could be assured a much more abundant harvest than here - perhaps on account of a longer growing season, or a greater number of pollinating insects. Their association with the north is also perhaps part of their appeal - our first encounter with bilberries was inside the arctic circle and I’m reminded of trips to Norway and of picking berries along Sweden’s High Coast Trail with Benji when he was still small enough to carry on long distances hikes. This tiny fruit somehow encapsulates the allure of the north within its shiny black walls - it’s easy to picture ourselves foraging for berries just outside a little cabin in Scandinavia where if life had been kinder we could imagine ourselves living.
A fine drizzle fills the air but we barely notice as we shuffle from one patch of bilberries to the next with heads down and eyes scanning the woodland floor for potential treasures. The quiet hush of concentration broken by Benji occasionally as he shouts with glee upon finding particularly juicy looking berries which typically end up going straight in his mouth and not the basket.
The harvest is small, yet we gather enough to take home for breakfast the following morning. We are careful to leave plenty for other wild creatures and never strip entire patches bare. Some years we have collected enough to make syrups and other things, but this year we are content with adding them to pancakes and drowning them in maple syrup - the sharpness of bilberry offset by sugary sweetness is a joy to behold.
Bilberry season is not over yet, and there will be other patches high on the fells that provide welcome trailside treats on our hikes into the hills over the coming weeks but for now we are satisfied with our little harvest and our morning in the woods - as with all the foraging missions we embark on, the real treasure is the time spent outdoors soaking in Nature’s goodness.
Well, that’s all for this week. Have you been on any foraging adventures lately? Has summer arrived where you are? The school summer holidays have begun here so we’re hoping for some good weather and long hikes…
With warmest wishes,
Andrew, Emma and Benji
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I'm not familiar with bilberries. We do have wild blueberries around here, which look similar.
I have never heard of a bilberry! I went down a rabbit hole about bilberries, but apparently they are not native where I grew up, nor anywhere I've lived. Thanks for sharing something brand new to me 🤗