I was reminded the other morning how rare are those times when it becomes possible to just slow down and deeply relish the moment without any of the distractions of modern life.
I’d been down to the veg patch to water my tomatoes and, as I walked swiftly back through the gardens on my way home and towards work, I saw how quickly a few days of warm weather had ripened the blackberries on wild brambles growing untamed in one of the borders.
I slowed down to eat a couple, lingered on to pick a small handful and then I started to look for a pot to gather enough for a pudding, a smoothie or jam. That sweet/sharp burst of juiciness was so moreish!
It was a meditative moment.
As I lingered over the picking of fruit, I relished the warmth of early morning sun after weeks of chill grey skies, the sight of the plump berries growing tall against a clear blue sky and gradually became aware of the sweet scent of honeysuckle flowers rippling towards me on the warm breeze.
These brambles have been allowed to thrive in an untended border, pushing their way through Cornus stems, an Elaeagnus shrub, honeysuckle vines and a very large pink flowering Hebe. It was the Hebe that has always been a magnet for bees and so I gathered berries to the gentle hum of foraging honey bees and birdsong emanating from neighbouring hedges.
As juice from the fruit stained my fingers, it occurred to me that this short interlude to my day appealed to all of my senses; it was a blissful, peaceful, hugely satisfying moment.
It’s not that where I live is noisy – planes drone quietly overhead, trains swoosh past, sirens wail, horns beep in the distance, the usual everyday city sounds – but a prolonged moment of stillness among nature is a moment to be cherished.
It reminded me of the time I lived by the sea. There, I would sit on the pebble beach, listen to the waves washing onto the shore and the gulls wheeling overhead, and watch the sun set in the west. Even then, (it was a long time ago), I could appreciate the beauty of the moment.
And now I have my garden spaces and nearby Heath. Often, for me, the mindful benefits of gardening are limited to the satisfaction of a task finished, the physical movement involved in all that bending and stretching and the joy of a well earned good night’s sleep.
But it’s the times we slow down and feel gratitude that life becomes mindful.
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In case you’re wondering, blackberries freeze well laid out flat on a tray then bagged up when frozen so I’ll put a batch in the freezer to enjoy over winter. In the meantime though, I like the sound of the blackberry muffins and pie from this London based blogger: