Oh the mystery of land. Was this a raspberry farm at one time? I met a man once who said he remembered hunting in this area when he was a boy. Our house is only something like 15 years old. What was this land doing before that? It's tempting to think that our land was somehow untouched until recently, but really, in Michigan, the woods are just very good at reclaiming the land. This could've been an intensively-managed farm forty years ago. I've been promising myself I'll go to the township office or the historical society and find out what they know. I admit I'm a little afraid to find out, especially since my elderberries, planted last year in the soil without soil testing (I do all our food in raised beds), are not doing well.
We have raspberries in front too, right where I said I wanted to plant them before I knew what I was looking at. And over on the other side of the yard, past a hole that I think is the summer home or getaway spot of the Daniel Berryman Clan, the family of groundhogs we lovingly share our land with (along with the pond's springloud frogs, the snapping turtles, and the fledglings), is a half-dead tree one side of which has been taken over by raspberries.
We are very blessed.
