海角大神

Cranberries 鈥� so much more than meets the eye

Like many Americans, the Monitor's staff writers associate cranberries with the holidays. But we wondered 鈥� had we ever seen a cranberry in the wild? 

Sometimes, the best stories can be found in your own backyard, like the Massachusetts cranberry harvest that I write about for this week鈥檚 cover story.听

Like many Americans, I associate cranberries with the holidays. My mom made cranberry relish from scratch, sweetened with orange juice and pulp, and a hint of maple syrup. Its tartness offered a balance to the richness of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. She also served a festive old-fashioned drink called 鈥渃ranberry shrubs鈥� with Christmas dinner, filling shallow crystal goblets with the red juice and a drop of lime sherbet.听

When I moved to Massachusetts after college and a childhood of living in many parts of the country, I became aware that cranberries played a significant role in this local history and culture. Some friends and I once traveled to Nantucket by ferry for the annual holiday stroll. The warmly lit shops offered treats as we hunted for gifts. I still remember biting into a soft oatmeal cookie and discovering the delightful pairing of chocolate, dried cranberries, and cinnamon. As a way to get to know my neighbors, I baked and gifted small loaves of cranberry-orange bread filled with crunchy, roasted walnuts, wrapped in silver foil and tied with red and green ribbon. Once, I tried to string a garland of popcorn and cranberries for my tiny apartment Christmas tree, but gave up, discouraged by the tediousness of the task.

But had I ever seen a cranberry in the wild? I wasn鈥檛 sure. So, when I learned this year that some cranberry farmers in Massachusetts offer tours of their bogs during harvesttime, I signed up right away.

There is something ridiculous about the sight of people standing in water surrounded by millions of bobbing red berries. You鈥檝e probably seen the commercials. Two actors portraying Ocean Spray cranberry farmers stand in waders, hip deep in a cranberry bog, dryly cracking jokes in the way that only New Englanders can: Is a 鈥渇oodie鈥� who likes cranberry juice actually a 鈥渏uicie鈥�?

Why would anyone pay money to wade in a cranberry bog? The answer is simple. Something about the vibrant red of the berries and the way they roll in sheer abundance makes our fears and worries feel outnumbered. When staff photographer Melanie Stetson Freeman and I squished into the bog, we found ourselves hugged by cranberries on all sides. We laughed and laughed, throwing fistfuls of them into the air like confetti. It felt like a celebration. Of what? It鈥檚 hard to say exactly. Gratitude for this abundant gift from the earth? Maybe it was just a feeling of being alive 鈥� and full of joy.