Searching for beach plums on Cape Cod. Here's what you can do with them if you find some.

The last weeks of summer can be a melancholy time as the all too short season winds down. But for a certain breed of hunter-gatherers late August, early September is prime season for beach plum picking. It’s scientific name Prunus maritima is easy to translate. The deciduous shrub is widespread across the Cape and grows up and down the East Coast as far south as Maryland. The usually low-slung bushes color the sand dunes in spring with their blooms. By mid-summer sharp-eyed harvesters get a good idea of what the year’s crop will be like as the green plums begin to ripen in the hot summer sun.

Good plant locations are rarely discussed as pickers keep an eye on their favorite spots. But anyone walking a regular beach route on public lands with an observant eye can spot the ripe blooms this time of year. I have heard talk over the years of an elusive golden plum but have never encountered the species. Author Elizabeth Post Mirel’s book, “Plum Crazy” is the bible for all things beach plum, first published in 1973. A well-worn copy can be found in many a Cape home, usually with a handwritten recipe card, place marking the page for the plum jelly.

There are a variety of uses for the tart native plum, but jelly is where most of the crop goes. The straightforward recipe calls for 8 cups of plums, which are then simmered and strained down to four cups of juice. Walking around the Sandy Neck cottages back in the day in early September and the smell of jelly production drifted along on the southerly sea breezes. Jelly making is not a foolproof operation. Tales of jars that never set are still mentioned each year after hours of hard work produced plum syrup instead of jelly. The old wife’s tale of not working on a rainy day is still observed. Pectin content of the plums is also a popular subject, overripe berries are thought to be harder to jell.

Beach pail in hand with a cool north wind at my back it was harvest time. Stopping at shrub after shrub, no signs of plums. At first, I thought I was late to the game, but there were no footprints in the sand. Usually there is evidence of wildlife foraging with plum pits under the shrubs. Nothing showing. Like most things in nature, there are banner years and lean years. Last year’s crop was big.

Further wandering finally revealed one plum, nestled in a hiding place. I quickly photographed it, for fear it might fall to the ground, and left it in place, returning home empty handed. As many a baseball fan proclaims in September, “Wait till next year.”

This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Cape Cod Times Photo Shoot: On the lookout for beach plums