This year, the blackberries seem to be more bountiful than ever before. The bushes in the lanes and fields nearby are laden down with plump, glossy berries and a hopeful scattering of hard red ones yet to ripen. Over the bank holiday weekend the five of us set out, basket in hand, with blackberry crumble in our sights. Hanging over the stile into the field we also discovered a wild plum tree, which we plundered for a couple of handfuls of ripe fruits. The boys ran free in the long grass whilst we picked steadily. Purple juices stained fingers and lips as we returned home, replete with hedgerow bounty and ready for the jamming and baking to follow.

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