Behind our house, we had dense woods with paths cut in that wandered off in all directions. We would go off following them exploring sometimes. One summer day we went wandering and discovered a huge patch of blackberries. From then on we would return and fill buckets with berries to turn into crumbles or pies. A wonderful gift from the woods, our secret place. This collection came from that memory and is a romanticized version of an arching bramble, no thorns of course. 

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