The brambles are still very much in evidence, their leaves turning through gold and ruby red to a less spectacular brown. The blackberries, though, are just a distant memory now, the ripe fruit either gathered by people, eaten by birds and animals, or withered and dry on the stem.
Gone, but for us not forgotten.
We have several jars of home-made blackberry jam in our store cupboard, enough to see us through the winter. The sweetness of summer days captured in a jar.
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