My wildflower excursions have been rather constrained this spring / summer (well, I suppose that’s what it is). First, there was work. And when I wasn’t working, it was raining. Boy, was it raining.
So my appreciation of wildflowers was confined to the meadow.
It is doing really well – it doesn’t seem to care about the bizarre weather, or not to any great extent – and every year brings new goodies, or an increase in the old goodies. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for more and more ox-eye daisies, and so far it’s working.
And being confined to the meadow is no real hardship when there are quiet little gems like this spotted heath orchid:
I am, however, taking part in Plantlife’s Wildflower Count, and I managed to pop up the hill and visit my assigned square. Hm. Cows. Lots of cows, and not just any cows but Welsh Blacks. Welsh Blacks who were quite interested in plant surveys, and in whether I was going to kidnap a calf and run away with it. I think I may need another square… Sheep, I like. I know sheep. Cows. Hmm.
But this afternoon I had to go to the shops and I sneaked my camera in my bag. I’d spotted some good things en route, and they had nothing to do with traditional breeds of cattle, thank heavens.
First, I drove down to the estuary.
There was a lot of thrift, some in drifts on boggy grass, some in crevices in the rocks. Beautiful. OK, this isn’t exactly the way to Tesco, but hey; the sun was shining.
And then back on the proper road, and I stopped again within a hundred metres. Flags.
Lots of yellow flags. There aren’t that many fields of them round here, and this one is a beauty. There was one other nearby, but some groundwork had to be done – this area floods badly, or can do – and the other field hasn’t quite recovered yet.
Hopefully it will, because they’re lovely – especially in those swathes of yellow.
I do like flags. I suppose it’s a natural extension of my liking for irises.
I’m going to try growing some in my damp bit, but I don’t think it will work; I’m sure there isn’t enough sun. However, you never know and I do know someone who is getting rid of some, so why not? They deserve a better fate than the compost heap (not that I’m sure that’s where they would end up, mind)…
I turned back to walk to the car, dodging the passing caravans, and spotted these dog roses.
Why couldn’t I ave these as hedging, rather than the Rosa rugosa? Or maybe they’re a bit pretty-pretty for my garden…
And yes, I did make it to the supermarket. It really is worth taking your camera everywhere – especially as it had clouded over when I returned, and is now looking a bit too ominous for my liking. Maybe it won’t rain. Maybe.