I’m going to try to do a week load of photo posts. Yes, post with photos every day for a week. Laugh WITH me, friends, not AT me for my hubris.
It is definitely almost autumn already. For once, I am reluctant to let summer go. I am very much a cold weather person and I do so adore autumn in England. Perhaps I would adore autumn anywhere but I have only experienced autumn in England.
This morning I sat at the library gazing out the window at the large park opposite. The wind blew mightily; trees shook while their leaves fought to hold on. A few did not have strong enough stems and let go, fluttering slowly down to the ground. The air has a distinct bitter edge to it and I am cycling wearing a vest (gilet/waistcoat) and long trousers again, rather than my 3/4 length shorts.
The whole of this past week has been windy – it is as if the weather wishes to blow away the last vestiges of summer entirely: sweep out the green and bring in the red and yellow.
I’m going to have a week of nostalgia – of the lovely summer wildflowers of England & Wales I encountered during my walks and cycles.
First up: the first flowers that usher in summer. Can you guess?
I am aware April is not yet summer but daisies are definitely summer flowers, not spring. No, la la la, not listening.
Did you grow up making daisy chains? I did not. I grew up making clover flower chains because daisies do not grow in Brisbane. One of my workmates was astounded that I had never made daisy chains. We were walking together through the park near my workplace, and I was picking my way carefully among the daisies, unable to decide on a place to sit to eat our lunch because I would squash a daisy if I sat anywhere. She found amusing my amazement at seeing a lawn carpetted with the bright, fried-egg flowers. Together, we grown girls made a daisy chain one lunch time, staining our fingers green.
They’re ubiquitous. Nothing special. Exceptionally common. And I adore them for it.
(I will be very embarassed if I’ve shown you this picture before).
This is the one and only time I have seen this flower – what I think is a wild daffodil but am prepared to be corrected by anyone who sounds more authoritative.
And, lastly for this post, May in England is glorious.
(Yes, yes, I know May is not summer either. la la la not listening remember?)
I was ever so excited to see this bluebell wood, in the Cotswolds. The English bluebell is rare in Southern England, where it has been outcompeted by the Spanish / hybrid bluebell (equally pretty, just not native). The following night, we camped beside a bluebell wood – less picturesque then this one but there is something about that expanse of blue that expresses magic.
Oh, and I lied about last. You just have to see this to understand.