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 Hagebuttentee und Johannisbeerschnaps  

Harvesting and preparing my own rosehips for tea… 

 

The other day I am plugging half of the already red rosehips from the wild rose bush with the with huge thorns, each thorn a beautiful monster announcing danger. This brings childhood memories of Hagebutten – rosehips. How our maternal grandmother would take my brother, sister and me on walks in the country side. In the summer we would gather wild strawberries, raspberries, blueberries and blackberries, coming home with purple lips and fingers and full buckets for her making jam. In the fall we would collect rosehips getting pricked, and she would make jelly from it, lasting for months.  

 

The old wooden pig of my paternal grand parents 

 

I cut the rosehips open, and use my finger tips to scrape out the seeds. These rosehips have only a tiny bit of the famous white “fuzz” which I remember vividly as inducing itching back in the old country. Not so here. I cook some tea from the vitamin C rich fruit, and fall into further reverie about berries… My memories drifting to the red and black current bushes of my paternal grandparents in East Germany who lived on the outskirts of Weimar and had a garden and chicken. I was a very good and fast picker, with both hands and nimble fingers. The red currents my favorite, their vibrant color and tangy taste, the feeling of pulling the light berries of their stems after plucking the strands. Hands, fingers, fingertips, enraptured, so alive, caressing berries, becoming one with ripe fruit, bush, seed, and sun… eternal time… 

 

My grandfather would make his own eau de vie – Johannisbeerschnaps – distilling the berries in the dark cellar. I loved the lazy summer afternoons extending late into the night with candle light. We were allowed to stay up, the grown-ups drinking Schnaps, talking and laughing, my uncle entertaining with songs and jokes. For a little while the world was safe, whole and round, my parents happy, all danger and troubles kept at bay by the magic of eau de vie and the cicadas singing… like the ones chirping in my garden tonight, the fall equinox tomorrow… 

 

 

Last month, red currents for my oatmeal breakfast 

Comments

  1. nicole gervacioSeptember 21, 2022 at 9:43 PM

    loving these precious and heartwarming memories. it's a treasure to have glimpses of your family and young Karina, thank you so much for sharing...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Alex KSeptember 22, 2022 at 4:16 PM

    This post is a treasure! Full of beautiful and healing morsels. There is a moment as you pick the currants that your writing becomes an incantation calling in experience. After reading it I was inspired to take a hike in Armstrong Redwoods to let in the California Fall. I couldn't recognize any signs of Fall in the nature but sensed it in the feel of the breeze and the look of the softened light. Your memories summoned and reminded me of the magic of life when seen with innocence and tenderness. Wonderful photos.

    ReplyDelete
  3. FernSeptember 24, 2022 at 9:09 AM

    After reading your completely lovely post...I was transported back in time to your Old World childhood. Ahhh to have lived those pure natural moments! "becoming one with ripe fruit, bush, seed, and sun… eternal time… " Thanks dear Karina for the TimeTravel!

    ReplyDelete

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