Bramble & Bloom

Long before raspberries blushed red, the bramble was wild and pale. Its berries were soft and colorless, and hid beneath twisting thorns. It grew along the edge of a grove, untouched by sunlight and forgotten by time.

But one midsummer morning, a forest nymph named Idaea wandered the grove. She was a curious soul with hair the color of sun-dappled wheat and eyes that flickered like morning dew. She moved lightly, always barefoot, leaving faint traces of wildflowers in her wake. Known for her mischief and gentle heart, Idaea had a habit of collecting unusual things such as glimmering stones, feathers with impossible colors, and the fruits from unremarkable trees.

drawn by the scent of citus and berry. She reached into the bramble, hoping to gather the ghost fruit for a feast, but as she did, a single thorn caught her finger. A drop of her blood fell onto the pale berries, and in that instant, the bush drank in her essence.

From that day on, the bramble bloomed in crimson.

The raspberries took on a bright, bold hue, and the sweetness sharpened with a wild, tart edge. The berries touched by Idaea’s spirit and summer sun, forever remembering her: their color is her laughter, their tartness her mischief, and their bloom her magic.