Reflections While Picking Berries
What the Yukon lacks in fruit trees it makes up for with berries.
Strawberries, saskatoons, haskaps, raspberries, currants, blueberries, mossberries, cranberries, rosehips—there’s so much abundance growing all around us. It’s one of my favourite things about living here. Around mid summer I basically turn into a bear and can be found making my rounds outside most days nibbling on some kind of berry or another. If it’s a good year the extra ones make their way into the freezer, but just the luxury of eating something sweet and delicious right from the bush is enough in its own way.
It’s mind blowing, really, how we’re gifted these delightful little treasures by mother nature. We don’t have to plant them, we don’t have to water them and yet we get to enjoy them for free. I guess that’s why I try to never take them for granted. Some years are really great berry years and others not so much. Some years there isn’t enough rain or the bears get them first. Sometimes a flock of migratory birds can completely strip your berry bushes in the course of a few hours. You can just never be sure.
It’s always a good idea to keep a few bags from previous years in your freezer because you never know when a year will come where you can’t stock up. In fact, there was an article that came out this spring about a study conducted by University of British Columbia, University of Toronto, and Government of Yukon researchers which came to the conclusion that wild berry production is declining in the Yukon. (https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/scientists-wild-berries-decline-in-yukon-and-they-don-t-know-why-1.7139863).
Some believe that climate change is the cause. Of the five species studied over the span of two decades, only lingonberries (lowbush cranberries) increased in abundance (https://cdnsciencepub.com/doi/full/10.1139/cjb-2023-0068).
Wild northern berries are vitally critical to the survival and well-being of many animals who live in the Yukon. Berries are consumed by creatures big and small, from a tiny vole to a giant grizzly. Caribou, grouse and even moose are fans. They’re also a fundamental traditional food and dietary component for humans too. Harvesting berries is an important cultural practice for First Nations as well as being central to a sense of identity and well being as individuals and as a community. I think for northerners, in general, berry picking brings so much joy (and nutrition) to our lives.
Perhaps it’s such a beloved activity in summer because it brings out the inner child in us. Fingers stained dark purple and a tummy full of deliciousness is bound to make almost anyone pretty happy. While everyone goes about it a bit differently (some eat while they pick, others put everything directly into their pail without tasting a single one and a few just stand around chatting with an almost empty container forgotten in their hand) the end result is the same—total contentment. I imagine it’s what a squirrel must feel like after sticking a few more cones into its midden (food cache) in late fall.
For me, berry picking is a temporary escape from the hamster wheel of life. It’s one of those activities that gives me time to loosen the reins on my thoughts and let them wander more freely for a little while. It’s a pause in an otherwise busy day—almost like meditation in motion. Meditation only became mainstream fairly recently, in the mid 20th century or so. My theory is that it’s not because humankind hasn’t always benefited and needed a daily dose of mental calmness and clarity but because our lifestyles changed so much that our regular daily activities weren’t providing us with that break anymore. The lives our ancestors lived were filled with meditative activities like walking long distances, weaving, working the land and foraging. Modern technology changed all of that.
So here we are, in the second half of a gorgeous Yukon summer and berry season is back. I don’t know yet how much will end up in our freezer this year but what I am sure of is that I’m going to enjoy and be grateful for every little red and purple morsel of sweetness that I’m lucky enough to find. Berry picking can teach us many things: to seize the moment, to not be greedy, to respect one’s neighbours, to share with other creatures, to love the land and most of all, that nothing can compare to the flavour of something grown in the wild. I hope that many future generations will be able to experience the pleasure of this special part of life in the North and that we’ll be blessed with many more bountiful seasons of berries.
