We pulled up to the abandoned lot that was mostly surrounded by  shrubs and blackberry bushes like a castle with a moat. There was one small area that allowed us entry into this secret spot that is overlooked daily by commuters. The spidery cracks in the asphalt were being widened and elongated by the same loopy prickly blackberry vines and the dry brittle grass. This secret spot was being overtaken by the wild and that was what made it the perfect place to pick the juiciest and darkest blackberries.  We could make our way around the perimeter carefully with our buckets strung around our necks so we could use both hands. One hand gingerly held onto the thorny armoured vines while the other hand slowly and carefully plucked one ripe berry after another until we striped each clump clean leaving the green berries to ripen for another day. With each step, we needed to release the hold the vine from our clothes as if it was angry that we had gathered it's treasure. Two gallons of berries, made it's way into our buckets with the promise of blackberry peach smoothies and jam for the end of summer, and blackberry cobblers and pies for the fall. This little bit of treasure found in an abandoned parking lot with no hint of why this area was paved to begin with.