I’ve enjoyed my last blackberry season in North Wales. We are moving to Bristol(ish) in November.
The first blackberries ripen in early July. By the middle of the month, perfect, juicy blackberries are everywhere. This continues through August.
There are still blackberries getting ripe through September. I tried one last week. It looked delicious. It tasted exactly like I expect a September to taste, barely sweet and not a bit tangy. Not worth the hassle of toothpicking out the seeds when I got home. September blackberries look like August blackberries, but the sweetness and joy are gone. It’s time to start picking apples.
[Puts on pastor/Radio-4-thought-for-the-day voice]
The seasons of your life are like a North Wales blackberry season. Everything might look perfect in your blackberry world but the joy has moved on to apples. It’s a thing you can feel in your heart before anyone can see it.
I left my last job when I was doing really well. I’d just been offered a substantive promotion. I liked the company and the people. Everything looked great. But the joy had moved on. My North Wales season was over.
I could have stayed, added extra sugar and lemon juice to the crumble (let’s go with the metaphor) and it would have been okay. But it wouldn’t have been great. When you look for the joy and discover the joy has moved on, you don’t do anyone any favours by sticking around out making okay crumble with September blackberries.
Bobby Bob is following his joy all the way to the Aldi in Ellesmere Port. He may offer you a lift and a gummy sweet. Don’t accept.
I heard this on Radio 1 while driving Freya to university a few days ago. It’s got a nice if-Warpaint-were-British vibe. (Spotify)
The idea of September blackberries applies to all kinds of seasonal changes, not just the big changing-jobs-and-moving-across-the-country stuff.
Let’s follow the joy!
Jeff
Wishing you all the best Xxx Still loving the emails!! Hopefully see you all at some point! I miss your wife!!! Hope I get to see you all before you move! X x 😘 ❤️ ✌️