The Richards family at the Cram-A-Lot Inn, Mountain, Wisconsin, 1980s
Blackberry Heaven
When I was a kid, my family spent good portions of our summers at my grandparents’ cottage up in the Nicolet Forest of northern Wisconsin. It was a modest retreat: a white 1950s single-wide trailer with a firepit, a small shed, and a wooden sign out front letting you know you’d arrived at the (accurately named) Cram-A-Lot Inn. We fished, we swam, we walked through the woods—and in late summer we picked berries in the locally legendary (and tough to locate) patch known as Blackberry Heaven.
It was a warm day in an Up North summer
My brothers and me
Were riding on the folded-down tailgate
Of our daddy’s Grand Marquis
He pulled off by the edge of the forest
And the six of us jumped out
With milk jugs and ice cream pails
For gathering berries up
Momma found the hole in the tree line
And we followed her in
Down a path through a dark, damp thicket
Then the sun poured down again
Into...
Blackberry Heaven
My family and me
Brambles of purple fruit
As far as we could see
I know your voices
Even when you’re just out of view
Blackberry Heaven
Can I stay forever here with you?
Here I am, back again
I’ve been gone so many years
It’s so much how I remember
I just wish they were here
I drive down the West Shore Road
Looking for that subtle seam
The path that can take me back
Into a sweet berry dream
After a while, I finally give up
And watch the darkness fall
What are memories, really?
Was it ever there at all?
When our summers are finally over
And we all go home again
Look for me in a clearing in the forest
A milk jug in my hand
In...
Blackberry Heaven
My family and me
Brambles of purple fruit
As far as we can see
I know your voices
Even when you’re just out of view
Blackberry Heaven
Can I stay forever here with you?
© 2020 Chris Richards / White Mare Music (BMI)