The Deva of Blackberries

Earlier this summer my landlord came over to repair a gate. He looked over at the fence that borders an easement between our yard and the neighbors’ yard beside us. There is a gap of about 3 feet between their fence and ours and in between them is a thick tangle of blackberry canes. He remarked that they had grown up a lot this year, and thought that both we and the neighbors had a joint responsibility for managing them. He recommended that I trim them back from our side of the fence as best as I could this summer. I told them that I would, after they were done flowering as they were feeding so many bees right now.

After the flowering, I watched the tight green nodules form and very slowly ripen throughout the summer into plump juicy berries the color of midnight. How could I cut them without letting them bear the sweet fruit that would feed me and the birds?

It is a wonderful feeling to step outside in the morning and pick berries for breakfast and I marvel at their hardy proliferation. Their lifeforce is both sweet and painful as I get poked a lot trying to reach the biggest ones just winking at me an arms length inside the tangle.  A stalwart young ash tree is growing in the middle of them. This morning I asked the ash, “How are you doing in there?” 

The reply I got back was a feeling of attentive resoluteness, like a favorite auntie watching over an unruly pack of children.

Some people see blackberry as a big problem. Especially if they want to grow gardens, orchards, lawns and just have space that is not thorny. Once established, it is very hard to remove as its vines easily hide underground and pop up out of the earth so fast you can almost watch them if you had time to sit and look.  It is considered an invasive species and if left alone, will spread quickly and take over.

I know people who have spent untold hours of hard labor and cash to burn out the roots to take back space for gardens and orchards.  And I know people who find ways to coexist, and have allowed them to grow in certain areas as hedges for sweet summer harvests.

Here I am in the middle, caretaker for the yard, but also for the pollinators. And friend to the fae. When I first moved in here, I was told by the fae that the easement between our fences was the territory of the wild fae and nature spirits who wanted to be left alone. You can read more about that story I wrote last September about when I stepped on some Faerie toes. Before I do anything in their territory, I promised to talk to them about it first.

I tuned into the deva of blackberry to get to know them better. I was surprised at the feeling of gentleness that greeted me. She says it’s why she has to be so tough and thorny. If she didn’t have that toughness, she is so gentle that she would not be able to do her job. Her job is thriving and nurturing. She says it may not look like it from our view, but she creates space for others to thrive. She takes me down into the soil with microorganisms and fungi and seeds that sprout up as green shoots between the canes. She shows me small creatures that live protected by the thorny tangle. She resonates with thriving and abundance, nurturance and standing one’s ground. As for being regarded as an invasive species, she says that is a very human centric point of view. There are no invasive species as far as Nature is concerned. 

I pondered that and how I have so much to learn as a human, as a caretaker of the space I share with many beings. So I will find a way for the blackberries to continue to be a part of the ecosystem here and do their job. And I will talk to the wild fae and let them know I have to trim the canes this winter to keep them from running the fence over and from climbing up the crabapple tree in the yard.  I trust that communication will be beneficial, and that we will all find our balance in the Divine intelligence of Nature.