Wild Blackberry Pie

They're not natives, these invasive Himalayan blackberries. They're not native, but they grow very well here. In open areas, you have to manage them. I mow the meadow where they and some other hardy species try to take over. When we first moved here, the entire meadow was covered in obnoxious (some say noxious) thistles, wild blackberry canes, wild roses, large amounts of random detritus, and piles of dead weeds. It was a fire waiting to happen.

That first summer, I borrowed an industrial-strength weed whacker and took that stuff down. We had the gigantic "weedstack" hauled off. Now we manage the meadow.  At the height of the growing season, I mow it every other week. It's pretty. The neighbors enjoy it. The deer enjoy it. The crows mine for bugs in it. The folks who walk past on the hiking trail enjoy it. It's no longer a fire hazard.

So the meadow is clear, but along the boundaries, along the trail, many berry vines remain.

Yes, they're not natives, but there here. They've established a niche. They grow in our neighborhood. I probably don't know what I'm talking about, but now they seem to be roughly in balance with other wild plants. In other words, their vines seem neither to grow without bound nor to be on the verge of collapse.

Himalayan blackberries grow along the nature trails. They grow at the big, nearby state park. They grow in the common area of our neighborhood. And this time of year they produce sweet fruit.

Angel went out and gathered a couple of buckets' worth. That's right: she walked around the trails between here and the nearby state park. Then she brought them back and froze some. Others, she mixed with tapioca and simmered on the stove. Later, she made a wonderful pie.

Angel's Blackberry Pie

Here's a photo of the last slice: