![]() |
| A mass of spent canes forms a woven wall |
I'm not a weaver. Several of my friends are: Kathe Todd-Hooker of Fine Fibre Press and Studio www.finefibrepress.com does exquisite tapestries. Joanne from Cup On The Bus, has made an enormous number of rugs in her life time. This morning in the intense sun I thought of them as the Things I get to do today brought me together with the marionberry vines.
Cane berries need to have the old vines removed and the growth sprung fresh this summer wound up in some order so one can pick what they fruit the next year. Early seemed better than late to get this project over and done with since even the worst of weathermen could tell us all we were going to be sizzling this afternoon.
![]() |
| Song Sparrow nest |
Removing the spent vines means heavy gloves and clippers. Prickly work, it is quite simple to snip out sections of the vine, pull it away from the berry "tapestry", and toss it into the wheelbarrow. And then, there it was! An abandoned Song Sparrow nest sheltered and protected like Fort Knox by the serious armor of interwoven berry stalks sat in the shadows.
No alarmed mother had tried to get my attention to stop work. I checked the energy of the egg for life. None. So slower now, more carefully, I continued the unravelling of the berry web.
![]() |
| Rewoven and ready |
Sorting and untangling the 15 to 25 foot canes requires at times longer arms even than mine, but eventually they made sense and the weaving process began. Over and under. Over and under. No fine threads, nor rags torn in strips, no changes of color. The trellis is covered only with the same thorny canes--over and under until all the new growth is secured and supported for next year.
![]() |
| Maybe next year. |
And under some of the newly interwoven stalks sits the nest.



