Wild Flowers

Rosebay Willowherb in July (Scotland)

 

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight

We did a scene from 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' when I was at Junior School (First School to all the youngsters out there!) and, even then, these few lines brought up goosebumps on my arms – they are so magical! The names of our native wild flowers are often so evocative and roll off the tongue in a very pleasing way, I find. My particular favourites are Rosebay Willowherb and Hemp Agrimony, both of which are evident in the hedgerows at the moment.

Lady's Smock in May (Wales)

I realised the other day, as I drove from my home to Somerton with a batch of baking for the Country Market, that I have been unconsciously measuring the progress of the seasons by the hedgerows for some time. In spring I notice the obvious Primroses, Cowslips and Bluebells followed by Red Campion and Lady's Smock and the ubiquitous Cow Parsley – in fact I call, erroneously, any white umbelliforous plant 'Cow Parsley', as I can't distinguish between them with any certainty! When I see the magenta spikes of Rosebay Willowherb pushing their way skywards I know that summer is in full swing and, when these same spikes are fading shadows of their erstwhile glory, I know that summer is drawing to a close. Then the wild clematis, Old Man's Beard, comes into its own smothering the hedgerows, briefly, with creamy flowers before becoming even more noticeable by its fluffy seed heads that grace the hedges and roadside trees all winter.

Wood Sorrel growing on a fallen branch (Wales)

On my travels over the last five years I have seen an incredible variety of wild flowers – many that I did not know the names of – and have tried to take photos of many of them. Unfortunately, my photos never seem to do justice to their extraordinary beauty and I have yet to take a photograph of a bluebell that looks the 'right' blue!

Just across the fields from where I live now there is a 'fishing lake'. It is actually a flooded railway cutting from the long-closed Highbridge branch of the Somerset and Dorset Railway (known locally as the 'Slow and Dirty'!). In places its is about twenty feet deep and is a strange, slightly spooky place, overhung by goatwillow and fringed with bullrushes and brambles. Very few anglers ever use it and the fishing stations are fast becoming reclaimed by nature. I'm told that there are kingfishers there but, when I walked over to it the other day, the only wildlife I disturbed was a lone female mallard duck. I could hear moorhens in the bullrushes at one end, but they kept themselves hidden from view. There are quite a few different wild flowers growing here – mainly the type that like rough wastelands, such as Yarrow and Vetch. One, a very pretty yellow daisy-type, I had to look up in a book and discovered that it had the very prosaic name of Fleabane, and was used to ward off fleas in houses in days gone by. Quite often the name of the flower refers to it's use in the 'olden days' and gives us a clue as to how our ancestors used it, such as: Lungwort, used to treat diseases of the lungs; Hedge Woundwort, used as an aid to healing wounds as it has antiseptic qualities; Comfrey (or Knit-bone), used in a poultice to aid healing of wounds and broken bones; Scabious, used to alleviate itching and in the treatment of ulcers; Fat Hen, pretty self explanatory really – it was used as a feed to fatten hens. These are just a few examples, there are many,many more and I find it quite fascinating.

My 'fat hens' have settled into their own little routine now – they spend the morning in their yard while the dogs, that Mary boards, have the run of the big yard and then, in the afternoon, they are allowed out to free range which means that they immediately make a bee-line for the newly mucked out stables where they scratch around in the straw, spreading it about liberally, and undoing all Mary's careful bedding up! Once they have trashed those to their satisfaction they head off to the muck heap to scratch out the tastiest worms, before finally going to scratch about on the grass. If wet, they go into the big barn where the hay and straw bales are kept and have great fun scratching about in there too and having dust baths. I think they're happy! I am still awaiting my first egg from the youngsters but it can't be long now as their combs are getting larger and redder day by day. Meanwhile I still have to buy eggs to use in my baking for the market on Saturdays!

Having been left, on several occasions, with baked goods that haven't sold and that I do not want to eat myself, I have been looking around for a second outlet, and think I may have found a possible candidate. On Fridays it is Market Day in Shepton Mallet and, I may have mentioned in a previous blog, that when I went a few months ago I was shocked to find only three or four stalls. Since then an enterprising lady has approached the market people and done a deal whereby for a reduced pitch fee (£5 instead of £20) people can set up small stalls and sell their wares, be it handmade cards, jams, plants, craft items or whatever. These have become known as the Suitcase Traders and, when I visited on Friday, had attracted quite a number of customers. The whole area had a definite 'buzz' about it and, if Helen can get enough signatures on her petition for free parking in the town on market day, could really help to regenerate the town. I would quite like to be a part of this movement and it would work in well with the Somerton Country Market, as I could bake the majority of items on a Thursday, present them at Shepton on a Friday and take any unsold items, plus a few newly-baked ones, to Somerton on a Saturday. I'll let you know how I get on.

Dog rose (Wales)