Sir, – Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, according to the poet John Keats. The beginning of autumn, for me, awakens the urge to go out and pick wild blackberries, a pastime built into my DNA since the days when my Dad brought me out on the crossbar of his bike to pick blackberries in the fields around Tallaght, now covered by the Square Shopping Centre. I recently collected a bounty of blackberries from the bushes on the banks of the Dodder which I sprinkle on my porridge every morning as I recite my very own ode to autumn, in appreciation of the fruits of the season. – Yours, etc,
TONY CORCORAN,
Rathfarnham,
Dublin 14.