Friday, June 20, 2008
The mulberry tree at Cambridge, under which, it is said, John Milton wrote his poetry. Since he lived from 1608-74, this has to be a very old tree. But they say it is the same one, so what do I know? I wonder if he wrote "Paradise Lost" under this tree?
I have a lovely Mulberry tree but unfortunately it is growing right on the roadside and close to the power lines, so they come by once a year and whack the tops off. This year, they didn't show up and it was loaded down with mulberries. Birds love them and deposit little purple puddles all over my yard and porches. I love the taste but they stain everything in sight a deep intense purple, so I just let the birds have them.
My first encounter with a Mulberry tree was in a cemetery. We lived in Pine Bluff Arkansas when I was in the fourth grade and just a few blocks down from us was this beautiful cemetery. We played there as children and thought nothing of it. One day we found a bucket and filled it to the brim with mulberries from this tree we were playing under. We took them home to Mama and she made us the best Mulberry cobbler. Later on she asked us where we had found them and we told her the cemetery. She asked us to show her where, so we took her to the place we had picked them. The tree was right beside this grave. Mama turned about ten shades of green and told us to never pick those again. We had no idea why not! They were so good. But adults can be odd so we just ate them and forgot about taking any more home. Now, I know why Mama turned green. LOL