Big drops of red raspberries drip off into my hand.
I pick. I eat. I pick some more.
Very few make it all the way indoors.
Why did I wait so long in my gardening life to plant raspberry briars?
Oh, right. Because they are briars, suckering up all over the place. Encroaching on the vegetable garden path. Making their way out toward The Shrubbery.
But all is forgiven when I stand there, precariously making my way between the raspberries and nearby roses to pick and eat those big drops of red raspberries.