Flowers

Every walk I try to identify one new wild flower. In the Lakes I was struck by the hosts of not-yet-flowered bluebells, their shiny green leaves like a carpet of seaweed beneath the trees; the equally long floppy bright green leaves of ramsons or wild garlic, bulging pods about to burst into ragged white flower; and the minty, toothed leaves and almost invisible flowers of dog’s mercury. Some herb robert was flowering in cracks and crannies of the dry stone walling.

And tucked into the wet nooks down by the beck were plentiful clumps of golden saxifrage, looks like a euphorbia, but the leaves are tougher, rubberier. A shy, retiring, sweet little English flower.

Golden saxifrage down by the Troutbeck in Cumbria

Golden saxifrage down by the Troutbeck in Cumbria

Nature

In flower in the back garden are crocuses and daffodils, in the front garden snowdrops, hyacinths and lesser celandines. Buds appeared overnight on the lilac tree and the flowering blackcurrant.

In wide Thornton Avenue numerous trees are decorated with delicate pink or white blossoms, already beginning to scatter like confetti on the pavements, the magnolia trees are coming into their brief, creamy bloom, and lush pinky-red cammelia flowers are burgeoning out from their dark green foliage.

In the back garden in the last few minutes I’ve seen a coal tit, some blue tits, a pied wagtail, a fat thrush preening itself, two wood pigeons canoodling on next door’s fence, a robin on the climbing frame, two striking black and sheeny-blue magpies, and a green woodpecker inquisitively poking at my overgrown lawn. All that’s missing is the sun!

Flowering blackcurrant blossom in my back garden

Flowering blackcurrant blossom in my back garden

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