Black Brambles and Choke Cherries

In Cape Breton wild berries abound and people use this resource to make jams and jellies.Where we lived there was an abundance of blue berries and wild cherries but one of my favourites was black brambles. These large berries grew on a vine that was embedded with thorns. You had to pay the price to pick and eat this fruit.
My mother was always warning us of getting the summer complaint for over eating these delicious wonders. One Saturday morning my friend and I realized that the fruit were ready for picking. We decided to plan a fishing expedition to the head of the Big Pond. There were speckled trout there in the spring and we liked to catch our share. What we really wanted was to go to our special place and eat wild cherries and black brambles.

We lied to our Mom's and kept our plan away from them as they would disapprove. In the morning we made our peanut butter and jam sandwiches and with a bottle of pop and fishing line made our way to the treed area down behind our house. Before leaving we dug the garden for worms and filled half a can and added a little soil to keep them alive. We did cut an alder fishing pole and and bait a hook to try our luck in MacArthur's Brook. We even caught a few little fish but  our mind was on the black brambles.

We found a place where there was an old crop pit,long filled in and overgrown with the bramble vines. To say the least we ate and ate until we could eat not another berry. We tried to eat some of our lunch but we could not. Even the Pepsi Cola did not taste very good. By now it was mid morning so we headed in the direction of home. We ate a few choke cherries which made a tell tale dark ring around our mouths. Our hands were scratched from the bramble vines and discoloured from the berry juice.

We began to feel guilty and afraid of what consequences might befall us when we returned home. We tried to make up a good story but that did not work.Our stomach began to turn and were had sudden urges to feel sick. Our mother's words began to echo in our mind and we suddenly though that summer complaint was more serious than we earlier believed. We began to think of getting home as soon as possible.

As we arrived at our house my friend just waved goodbye and ran full tilt to make his home and bathroom in time. I was a little more casual and tried to get by the watchful eye of my mother to reach the bathroom. No luck and I had to stand the scrutiny of a trained eye. Mom spelled out the real adventure we had by pointing to the scratches and berry juice stains on my face and hands. I could wait no more and for the next hours I began to understand the phrase,summer complaint. I learned a lesson and it was some time before I used the excuse of going fishing when I was really going looking for a summer complaint.