March, March to the Bilberry Bushes! The Finnish Forest Now Calls Us to Its Sweet Natural Delights

Text and photos: Outi Johansson

Did you know that Finnish forests produce hundreds of millions of kilograms of bilberries at their peak? Thanks to the Everyone’s rights, this superfood is accessible to everyone. Have you already ventured out to pick your share from the hidden shady mounds, rocky crevices, or the edges of bogs? The best time for picking is a dry day between July and September. Personally, I prefer heading to the forest on a beautiful summer evening. There’s something magical about them. Fortunately, we’ve had plenty of such moments this year!

A serene wilderness greets me one July evening. The powerful rays of the slowly setting sun peek through the trees, playing in the lush forest terrain. Golden beams touch the first delicate pink-violet blooms of the heathers, the rough bark of the trees, and the green-gray leaves resting on the branches of the bog bilberry bushes, on the tallest plants of the mossy forest floor. The pine pillars stretch towards the blue sky while their sturdy, upright shadows fall among the soft shrubs, dancing in the light breeze. The chiffchaff, that reliable companion of the coniferous forests, sings out from the treetops nearby, sending a bright trill into the air as if greeting the visitor to its domain.

I take a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air of the pine forest. The familiar scent is calming as the oils released by the conifers diffuse into the dim forest lounges. My senses sharpen and my breathing steadies. A few of the everyday worries weighing on my shoulders give way and recede into the back of my mind. The enchantment of the forest and summer fills my mind, and it doesn’t take long for me to sink into the serene atmosphere of the lounge. I know that homeward calls won’t beckon until I’ve gathered an abundant supply of the forest floor’s delicacies!

Memories come alive here, in the embrace of nature. The lush scent of the fresh pine forest brings thoughts back to childhood. To the times when, as a little girl with pigtails, I hopped from mound to mound behind my parents, picking bilberries into a tiny blue enamel cup. Some of the forest excursion’s “squat vitamins” went straight into my mouth. Sometimes I would trip and the treasures I had painstakingly collected would roll across the forest’s undulating floor.

The soft forest floor rustles under my boots as I leisurely make my way deeper into the forest’s shelter. My eyes scan the undulating terrain for clusters of blue berries. Indeed, there are plenty here. Beneath the arched shrubs and the oval, serrated leaves, a handful of plump dark blue berries are revealed. Soon, my eyes spot more. And more.

The first blue nugget drops into the bottom of the bucket, followed by a second, and a third. Plop. Plop, plop, plop. After a while, the sound diminishes. The bottom of the bucket no longer gapes emptily, but is filled with sweet, blue gold, with a few darker berries among them – the “butter bilberry,” the “priest’s bilberry,” and the “tar bilberry.” The peculiar black bilberry has many names. Have you heard the old folk tale that the bilberry turned dark, almost black, because a snake had licked it with its tongue?

Somewhere, thunder rumbles, and I pause to listen to its distant movements beyond the wind. However, the rumbling quickly subsides and I return to my treasures. Gradually, the bucket fills nearly halfway. It’s hard to stop! My fingers gather the largest berries from the shrubs, leaving the smallest behind. Some of the best berries hide under the tall shrubs as if to challenge the forest visitor in their pursuit. I pull out a wooden cup from my backpack and fill it to the brim with sweet squat vitamins.

I sit down on a fallen tree trunk and let my gaze wander through the forest. The wind’s song quiets, the waltz slows. The chiffchaff once again sings its tireless, dreamy tune: “chiff, chaff, chaff, chiff, chaff…” The sun moves behind a cloud, and the forest room darkens. A few mosquitoes have found my damp arms, and a couple of bloodthirsty flyers buzz near my ear. The last bilberries of the evening slide into my mouth. Nothing could taste better right now!