Blackberry picking (summer 2013)

I don’t know what it is with me and blackberries. I genuinely have no answer. These were taken the same day as another post but I decided to break them up. At the time I found the blackberries growing  in a graveyard quite ironic – life and beauty growing out of a place dedicated to the dead. This is what happens when you get a 16 year old to over analyse Seamus Heaney. I swear that for the whole time we were doing “Blackberry Picking” and “Death of a Naturalist” in higher English, I saw the world in a new poetic, pretentious light. Good for creativity, not so much for anything else