Blackberry pie, blackberry jelly and jam, blackberry cobbler, blackberry ice cream, blackberries on yogurt, blackberry wine (and, oops, vinegar), blackberries from the vine … I’ve enjoyed them all! It’s a special time each summer when the blackberries ripen and my berry bucket calls.

Even so, I have mixed feelings about the brambles that bear the berries. Everyone knows that blackberries are an invasive species — and the fast-growing brambles are troublesome, no doubt — but each late summer they provide delicious berries for us all. Enjoying those blackberries is something I look forward to, even when I am worried that thorny predicaments, too, may wait ahead.

That tension, between sweetness and thorn, reminds me of an old story — you may well have heard something like it — about an old monk who slipped off the edge of a cliff but paused his fall by grabbing onto a small bush rooted in the cliff face. From below, he heard growling. The monk looked down and saw tigers pacing below, hungrily looking up at him. (Today, the tigers might take the form of frightening headlines we read in the news.) He felt a prick; a drop of his blood fell to the beasts below.

Glancing again at the little thornbush, the monk saw that its roots — strained from bearing his weight — were slowly pulling free from the rock. But also the bush bore a few ripe berries — he quickly plucked one and popped it into his mouth. “My, what a delicious berry,” he exclaimed!

The monk was cheerful because, in his precarious moment, he found unexpected company and generosity in the berry bush, which did more than suspend him — its unexpected gift gave his moment meaning.

We all face periods when optimism feels out of reach, so how is it possible to become cheerful, you may wonder? Speaking for myself, it’s certainly not because I am in denial about the many problems facing our world and society, affecting even our beloved island. I am well aware of those, though I will not dwell upon them here.

Nor is it that I have never been afflicted by a sense of despair when considering the worst outcomes imaginable. Still, the future has yet to be written, and there is much for us to do.

That brings me back to the gift of the present moment. It’s said that the gods, in their infinite wisdom, put the present between the past and the future — and here we are. On this day, you and I are shaping how we live together — and the future we are making. Knowing that both you and I share in this creative process gives me cheer.

That’s why I joined our community council: to make the most of my days, to work with fellow islanders in clear-headed conversation, shared reflection, and joyful action — preserving what’s good about living on Vashon-Maury Island while seeking improvements that are consistent with our deepest values.

I trust you have your own way of living each day to the fullest, savoring whatever flavorful berries you may find. We may not cross paths on this beautiful brambly island we call home. Or perhaps we will find ourselves together in a community council meeting or some other event. Yet however the days unfold — as we cultivate realistic optimism in the world between denial and despair — we have each other, and that is enough.

I wonder what sweet berries you might find this season — or what brambles you are working to clear. In the presence and generosity we offer to one another, our path forward becomes not just believable, but meaningful.

Let’s savor these days in good cheer — eyes open, hands ready, hearts together.

JC Graham is president of the Vashon-Maury Community Council. Email JC at President.V-MCC@proton.me or find out more at v-mcc.org.