PBP: Blackberry Season

I am shamelessly turning this into a Pagan Blog Project post, because I need a second B.

Today, instead of taking a 5-minute drive down the street, I took a fifteen minute walk to a store and back again. I am now slimy from the combination of sunscreen and sweat (you're welcome, for that mental image), but it was worth it. Doubly so because on the way back, I picked blackberries as I went. They were growing wild amid the landscaping and didn't seem to be targeted by anything harsher than pruning shears, so I figured, why not? I nearly filled my water bottle with them. I had to empty it to make room; but it made a nice expression of thanks for the thirsty plants. Water is easier for a human to come by.

Blackberries are rather special to me: I grew up in a suburban area, but with the benefit of a designated, no-can-touch greenbelt behind the backyard, so I had a wonderfully leafy view. Because it surrounds a streamlet, the land is swampy, and blackberry bushes crowd the ground level. Unfortunately, the neighborhood committee sometimes poisons the ones growing on the edges, to control the brambly tide, so I wasn't allowed to pick the fruit as a kid. I know now that they're an invasive species -- that's why they take over so easily. But their presence was welcome. In addition to the blackberries, that strip of land houses cottonwoods, alders, low-growing willows, indian plum trees, and a couple salmon berries. (At least the last two are native.) Someday, I'll remember to take pictures when I go back to visit my parents.

Speaking of pictures, I decided to share this bounty with the gods on my altars. There is no prayer behind these gestures; they're presents, and tokens of good will.

I recently bought a nice blend of green and white teas from Celestial Seasonings. I thought Kuanyin might like some, so I gave her a portion from my mug in addition to the fruit.

 

I dared not leave Hekate out.

And even though Athena has been quiet lately, I decided to put two berries in her offertory dish, too.

Now, sometime tonight, I'll have to move or break down my altar so it doesn't get paint on it when the porch door is finished up. It would be all right if I was the one doing the painting, but I'm not. Call me a hermit, but I do not enjoy strangers entering my home, even on legitimate business. If it was up to be, the apartment complex would have never been painted in the first place....grumble-mumble. On the bright side, maybe I'll have new altar pictures to show you soon; that arrangement in front of Hekate is, I feel, out of date.