Brambly Perspective

The brambly bushes weave their way up the hillside in no particular pattern much like Pollock's Autumn Rhythm. They do not hold an aesthetic appeal to the average eye. To most they look like a tangled mess of thorny vines and dusty leaves that house spider webs laden with dead flies and debris and snakes that look like shimmering oil slicks slithering among the vines. But the appreciative eye can see beyond the spiders, snakes and briers to a storehouse of delectable treasures; black, sweet, juicy treasures baking in the sun.

As a young girl, I spent many happy summer days submerged in briers. Dressed in cotton shorts, summer top and tennis shoes I'd listen to birds enjoying the day and bees buzzing around me. I'd  gorge myself on warm, tasty berries without a care in the world while the sun colored my skin. After satiating my appetite, I'd escape the cruel claws of the bushes with berry stained mouth and scratched and bleeding extremities. I'd find my way to the shade of the weeping willow to escape the sun's piercing gaze and contentedly lay on a soft bed of grass.

Although years have flown by since my youthful excursions to the brier patch, I still find myself among the brambles trying to extract the treasures life holds for me. I'm not as heedless to the thorny claws as I once use to be. Now, after a tussle with the thorns, all I see are scrapes and dripping blood. But when the wounds heal and my vision clears, I see more than spiders, snakes and briers. I see a storehouse of treasures just waiting for me to pluck them from their thorny vines. "Extract the precious from the worthless,' sings through my mind and once again I see the beauty in the briers. ˝

​Nannette Milette ©