Scribbling notes in a little journal that gets shoved down in a pocket, making tiny thumbnail sketches of flowers and grasses and taking photos…..all these combine together to help me record the slowly changing pace of the marshes and pastures that lay just over the back from where I live……Spring sees the meadows covered in yellow rattle and marsh buttercups, everywhere a gleaming and sun shiny gold….
Then slowly flecks of blue, lilac and lavender, soft mauves of red clover tangled in the grass, and those pink wisps of ragged robin which droop if a bee so much as looks at them, all begin to appear beneath all that yellow and mustard gold.
My favourite of the blue tinted wild flowers is tufted vetch, it climbs up grasses sending out tiny, delicate curling tendrils..but it is the cluster of petals like minute foxgloves that I particularly like, most walks in Summer include a tiny sprig which gets pressed in a book (often to be found later when it’s all cold and bleak outside).
And right now the pasture fields are full of vetch, there’s a few smudges of bright meadow vetchling but mostly it’s a sea of soft and hazy blue, foamy bursts of meadowsweet blur the edges and from a distance the meadow looks more like water than a mass of wild flowers….and with the blackberries now all ripe and ready to be picked it’s just perfect.
It’s nice to get out, stretch my legs after sitting all cooped up with a lap full of sewing…..frustration with knots in thread and tangled silk are cast aside and instead nubby little pencils are pulled out of linty pockets, notes taken and ideas for embroideries are scribbled down, inspired by tiny leaves and twisting tendrils…..
Each week walking out over the meadow new flowers appear in different places, last years spot for water mint has moved, now it’s all growing up all around our favourite blackberry bush. What looks the same never is, changes in weather, two days of rain can and does transform what is growing along the pathways almost overnight….
A new wooden bench has been placed by the river, when we passed it at the the start of the week it was surrounded by soft brown eyed cows with their calves who were curious but skittish and skipped away after they smelt our hands…..their mums are much more content to just stand and let themselves be coased and told they’re beautiful, skritched around their ears and gently scratched around and down their faces……
I’m always tempted to bring out a flask of tea but after the other week when I brought some water with me as it was so hot, I then found I needed the loo so ended up semi trotting home rather than the nice leisurely amble I had planned