I spied the bear eating the berries in the hawthorn tree before he spotted me. âEnjoy the berries,â I whispered sweetly, walking away from the bear as quickly and calmly as I could as he appraised my good nature. While passing, I glanced beneath the hawthorn for lumps of green stuff with the consistency of liver that would reveal a fairy battle having taken place around the tree the night before. There were brown liverish clumps filled with berries beneath the tree that Iâm 100% certain did not come from the fairies. I donât fool with bears and I donât mess with sceach gheal, the radiant briar, the hawthorn tree.