As I wandered into an untamed copse, where sunlight dappled the ground in broken gold, my eyes rested on something quite arresting: a wild bramble, bulging with clumps of berries black as night with no moon.
They dangled there, droplets of some deep shadow,an oiled orb of perfect black. A slight silvery bloom, the kiss of morning dew, lay upon their skin and they were nothing less than fruit, no longer creatures but gems wrought by Nature's most cunning hand.