Thursday, 5 June 2008
This is the time of the year when everything, but everything, seems to be blooming. The meadows, in particular, are completely orgiastic in their displays of flowers, like some psychedelic carpets where so many different species compete for the bees' and butterflies' attention. I tried to count the different varieties but gave up after 163... it was getting dark by then. But the most dominant, on most of the meadows, were oxeye daisies, harebells and ragged robins, but also different pinks, comfrey and borage, cornflower, vetch, different trefoils and clovers, salvias and woundworts, parsleys, meadowsweet and chervils, chickory, tansy, yarrow and meadow buttercup. And in wetter places there are still huge clamps of forget-me-nots, marsh marigolds, celandines, dropwort, corn mint, well, and so many flowers I simply can't name, including a wonderful deep purple orchid-like jewel. Spending a whole afternoon among these amazing displays, wading waist high in the lushness of it all, is like a trip of sorts - after a while your mind gets quite overwhelmed with the beauty and the generosity of it all. I was musing what would happen if business bigwigs and politicians were compelled to spend whole days in places like this. Would their priorities and values not be challenged?