
We've got blackberry canes growing wild along one side of our fence, mingled with a heavy, fragrant honeysuckle vine. No work is required on our part, and they produce a few handfuls of berries each spring. It's never enough to cook with, but they make a nice, tart treat sprinkled on morning cereal. Occasionally I have fantasies of pulling the weeds out and making growing conditions better for them, but I never do it. It seems more magical in a way to harvest the modest amount of fruit from the volunteer plants.

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