They exist. In fact I made a fantastic haul just yesterday. I get pretty excited by blackberries. They are one of the few things you can actually, really eat from the Great Outdoors (I am no Ray Mears). And so many uses. Straight into porridge, or jam, or cooked with apple for a superb crumble.
Being able to get up from my desk and, within five minutes, be able to harvest a box full of blackberries is high on my reason-list for living where I do. While my garden is small, hop over the fence am I am in 200 acres of garden, peopled by the odd jogger or dog-walker.
Here I am in a classic Victorian park, planted 125 years ago with a range of native American cedars, redwooods and other `rare breeds' of trees. These tower above the oaks and sycamores, providing landmarks of where our house is from the fields and hills around.
Living here I think has told me that my location - as near to nature as possible - is as important to me as my actual dwelling. We could probably double the space for the money we spent to be here, but, I don't think I would ever swop this place, even for a suburban mansion. I am perfectly placed.
This is our first Autumn here. It isn't properly underway yet as the Indian Summer is clinging on but the first coldnesses are upon us and within weeks the blackberries will all be gone.
Until next year, of course.