My Unlikely Afternoon in the Sun
Amongst acres of weeds, thorns, and unsavory bugs, a ripe, juicy, ready for pluckin’ and eatin’ blackberry truly shines like a diamond in the rough.

In the 90-degree/90-percent humidity of a July Sunday afternoon, smelling like bug spray and with flies buzzing in my ear, I ventured out of my air-conditioned world to do some blackberry picking. Half terrified of encountering a snake, and swatting at what I hoped weren’t wasps, I tentatively stepped further and further into the brush, in a quest to reach the blackberries that those who came before me were unable to reach. I was careful at first, trying to slip my hand unscathed through the thorns and jaggers which sought to protect the berries from their would-be captors. But my search became more fervent and my greed grew until I was plunging shoulder-deep through the prickly mess, always hoping for the biggest one—always just out of reach. But for that rustic summer diamond, my aim was single-minded and whole-hearted.

Sweaty, sunburned, and with new bugs bites popping out on my skin to unmercilessly replace the ones that had been fading, I returned to my car satisfied, my Wal-Mart bag loaded down with the taste of summer. A taste that would have never been as sweet, if merely purchased at the aforementioned air-conditioned store. No, this taste had to be sought for and acquired like the diamond that it is. I believe it is in the challenge of the pursuit that the prize is won.