Last week, a berry-stained gentleman wandered into the American Spoon store in Petoskey. He’d picked some wild blackberries in response to our ad and wasn’t quite sure where to take them. This happens fairly often during the month or so that it takes summer to fade into fall, when blackberries grow like crazy in dense thorn-studded thickets along roadsides and abandoned railroad tracks, at the edges of fields and trails, in state parks and vacant lots, and in all sorts of wild and woodsy places.
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