There’s an old saying I recite every spring as I assess the leaf situation: “The ash before the oak, we’re in for a soak, the oak before the ash, we’re in for a splash”. I’d like to believe it as this year the oak trees are out long before the ash , meaning that we’ll get a splash of rain in the summer, rather than a soak. Of course, living in the most northerly county in England we get a lot of rain, so the saying is right either way.
This year the blossom has been wonderful. It began with a profusion of catkins, then an abundance of pussy willow. Then the blackthorn appeared dotting the hedgerows with stars of white beauty, then the wild cherries, and then – the final, triumphant finale – the may blossom. it is spectacular at the moment, literally breath-taking – ie, it took my breath away, (not like the politician on the radio who said that Mrs May, literally, had her head in the sand!) Now, there’s an image!
Now the may is out we can certainly cast a clout, and probably a bit more if this warm weather continues. it is the confirmation that spring has sprung and summer will soon be here. The hedges under the may are covered in a mass of that most elegant of wild flowers, cow parsley, that plant that has so many other names: Lady’s lace, hedge parsley, kecksie, and many more old . I think it’s edible but I shan’t try – one year I made nettle soup that ended on the compost heap. it’s always wise to be careful; hemlock looks so tempting, beckoning us with its salady, parsley-like leaves, but even with a delicious dressing you’d end up like Socrates …
A murder mystery seeps away at the back of my mind, and one day I may write it. The victim would be poisoned by hemlock. That’s all I know, but everything has to start somewhere. I may never write it – I’m having enough trouble working out the plot of my children’s mystery story without graduating to more complex threads!
