Some of the bramble on the lane up to farm are beginning to ripen already. I always think its ironic how I spend hours carefully nurturing various fruit bushes in the garden while my favorite fruit grows wild and free on the side of the road. I always have to fight the urge not to run over raiders from the village who come up to pick them. I shouldn’t as there’s more than enough to go round.
My uncle John always told me that bramble leaves could be used to sooth a burn. Boiled up they’re also a good tonic for soar throats as well apparently. But be warned Uncle John used to tell me all sorts of rubbish like that.