This is only the end of a 40 ft hedge row but I never have a chance at the berries. The birds get them before I can! At least I can enjoy the fragrance that wafts with the breeze while I am gardening and dream of the jelly I could have made.
If a ragnarök would burn all the slums and gas-works, and shabby garages, and long arc-lit suburbs, it could for me burn all the works of art–and I’d go back to trees. - Tolkien
