Now that I live in Seattle, summer means cherries from Eastern Washington and autumn means apples. I have a vivid memory of the first time I saw a tree with flowers on it, so you better believe that I was kind of amazed when I first realized that there are happy fruit trees throughout my adopted city. My first summer, I drooled over the heavily-laden plum trees in the yard of a house across from my apartment building. Finally, I built up the confidence to go and knock on the door.

“Umm, excuse me, but I was wondering if you are going to pick all your plums?”

No, they were not, and so I made a first attempt at plum jam, and some awkward plum chutney.

That was the beginning of my urban foraging career. I began to realize that Western Washington was much more fertile than I ever guessed before I moved here. There are many varieties of apples and pears. Plentiful plums, mostly Italian. The occasional cherry tree, and arbors covered with actual grapes. It never occurred to me that grapes grew anywhere outside the Mediterranean, with the possible exception of California. And grapes aren’t even the most exotic, because there are figs, persimmons, and hazelnuts growing in Seattle. During adventures in real estate, I even saw a listing for a house with a mature, fruiting kiwi tree. Kiwis! My taller half had to talk me down gently.

I’m not the only urban forager out there. (Who hasn’t picked a handful of Himalayan blackberries from the sprawling brambles invading fair Cascadia?) A few years ago, by word of mouth, I was an interview subject for a study on urban foraging. I talked the investigator through my mental map and learned that while I have mainly picked fruit, there are people out there collecting plants, herbs, and perhaps even mushrooms. I’m clueless on the identification, so no mushrooms for me, but I have been know to borrow a sprig of rosemary or do a little gentle thinning of a lavender patch when out for a walk.

There’s even a brand new edible forest in the Beacon Hill neighborhood. I haven’t visited yet, but it’s on my list of cool things about Seattle. There’s also a non-profit that organizes volunteers to pick and redistribute fruit in the city. I’m glad they exist, because for a while I thought I needed to start a non-profit doing the same thing. I was going to call mine “No Fruit Left Behind”, which is way cooler than “City Fruit,” but they’re actually doing it while I only talked about it, so on the balance they win for awesomeness.

Anyway, here we are in mid-July. The peak of the cherry season is past, but I bought enough to spend an evening pitting cherries while watching a movie. We have Bing cherry jam, and Rainier cherries canned with basil leaves. I turned my golden plums into a golden jelly and kicked myself afterwards when I saw a friend on Facebook making plum-ginger preserves. In another few weeks the Italian plums will be ripe, though, and I can try it then. Rhubarb-ginger is definitely on the horizon, and by September it will be applesauce time.

Of course, the 21st century supply chain means I can get any of these things off the shelf, or even fresh (”fresh”) much of the year, but when you crack open a jar in the middle of winter, it’s a beautiful thing. Singer-poet Greg Brown put it best – “Taste a little of the summer, my grandma put it all in the jar.”