Brambles in the Ditch

 

Some of the juiciest, sweetest brambles grow in the ditches. Don and I went on a reccy to see if the bramble bushes which lined the dirt road to what we call the ‘forest of Endor’ had survived the loggers.

I approached with caution, having disturbed the beautiful badger there a few weeks ago. (The beautiful badger which Flick and Greg and I buried a few days later, as it had been struck down on the road.) I didn’t want to disturb badger refugees who may have relocated in that ditch.

No sign of any badgers, and the brambles are there in profusion, many still red and ripening, many plump and black and sweet. We picked two boxes, and I’ll be back there soon.

A few jars of jam later, I can attest to their rich flavour.

With sorrow, I heard this morning that Don’s god-daughter, not yet 50, has been moved to a hospice. She is a sweet-natured, spiritual young woman, and my prayer today is that in the cancer ditch, she and her loving family might be blessed with divine sweetness and consolation.

And that anyone else in a worldly ditch of despair might today encounter the loving Saviour.