Easter greetings to you all!
The header photo is of gorse coming into its best at our local nature reserve.
Then there are primroses, daffodils, crocus, celandines, marsh marigolds and cowslips.
For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
I went down to fetch the paper yesterday morning, and what should I see but … snowdrops, as shown in the featured photo.
Spring, and after that sumer is i-cumen in, as we’ve known since the 13th century at least. Our choir loves to sing about this – and no, the video below is not our band of singers.
And if snowdrops are here, can daffodils be far behind?
In this week’s Nature Photo Challenge, Denzil has asked us to focus on seedheads. You won’t get any more ripened seeds in one place than in a field of cereal crops awaiting harvest. Here’s a local example in my header photo.
And here are some close-ups of barley and wheat.
And here’s a gallery of their wild cousins – grasses. Not one of which I can more accurately identify. Any offers?
Then there’s cow parsley -or a close relation. It can be yielding its seed, perhaps in the midst of a field of crops round about now, or picturesquely hosting a spider’s web in misty November.
At this time of year too there’s rosebay willow herb: it seems to develop seed pods earlier every year. Here are some at a local reservoir, Grimwith.
And finally and almost inevitably, teasel.
As regular readers know already, I’m a huge fan of Food for Free. Especially at this time of year, I never leave the house without a useful ‘au cas où’ bag stuffed in my pocket . This is a bag that any rural French person will have about their person always – just in case they find something useful – a few nuts, berries, fungi or leaves to add interest to the store cupboard. At the moment, this is all about the apples, blackberries, bullace and mirabelle plums all growing wild locally. At other times it might be young nettles, wild garlic or other leaves. Soon it will be puffballs. I’m not especially knowledgeable, but I do my best. Yesterday’s haul? Windfall apples (simple stewed apple) mirabelles (frangipane and jam) and bullaces (crumble and bullace cheese – think a plum version of membrillo – very labour intensive).
Although I was brought up foraging, my commitment to it was sealed when we lived in France. Here’s a post I wrote in October 2012.
October 25th, 2012
Well, at this time of year, it isn’t really a case of ‘au cas où’ . You’re bound to find something. A fortnight ago, for instance, Malcolm and I went on a country stroll from Lieurac to Neylis. We had with us a rucksack and two large bags, and we came home with just under 5 kilos of walnuts, scavenged from beneath the walnut trees along the path. A walk through the hamlet of Bourlat just above Laroque produced a tidy haul of chestnuts too.
Yesterday, we Laroque walkers were among the vineyards of Belvèze-du-Razès. The grapes had all been harvested in the weeks before, but luckily for us, some bunches remained on the endless rows of vines which lined the paths we walked along. We felt no guilt as we gorged on this fruit all through the morning. The grapes had either been missed at harvest-time, or hadn’t been sufficiently ripe. They were unwanted – but not by us.
The walnuts we’re used to in the Ariège are replaced by almonds over in the Aude. You have to be careful: non-grafted trees produce bitter almonds, not the sweet ones we wanted to find. But most of us returned with a fine haul to inspect later. Some of us found field mushrooms too.
Today, the destination of the Thursday walking group was the gently rising forested and pastoral country outside Foix known as la Barguillère. It’s also known locally as an area richly provided with chestnut trees. Any wild boar with any sense really ought to arrange to spend the autumn there, snuffling and truffling for the rich pickings. We walked for 9 km or so, trying to resist the temptation to stop and gather under every tree we saw. The ground beneath our feet felt nubbly and uneven as we trod our way over thousands of chestnuts, and the trees above threw further fruits down at us, popping and exploding as their prickly casings burst on the downward journey.
As our hike drew to an end, so did our supply of will-power. We took our bags from our rucksacks and got stuck in. So plentiful are the chestnuts here that you can be as picky as you like. Only the very largest and choicest specimens needed to make it through our rigorous quality control. I was restrained. I gathered a mere four kilos. Jacqueline and Martine probably each collected three times as much. Some we’ll use, some we’ll give to lucky friends.
Now I’d better settle myself down with a dish of roasted chestnuts at my side, and browse through my collections of recipes to find uses for all this ‘Food for Free’.
*From the words of an English hymn sung during Harvest Festival.
For Denzils’ Nature Photo Challenge #24: Edible.
And Jo’s Monday Walk: even though Jo is taking a break.
This week’s Nature Photo Challenge from Denzil is about water plants. My archive has not been especially revealing, and if you think I’m going out on this day of torrential rain to find more, you’ve got another think coming. Perhaps this is a chance to join in to with Jez’s Water Water Everywhere challenge too?
I’ll issue a challenge of my own too. I rather like the images below of spiky, statuesque reeds and grasses in black and white. But perhaps you prefer the original colour?
My first one is from the lake at Kiplin Hall, North Yorkshire
Then we’ll move to Lake Prespa in Greece, where the reeds obscure a handsome egret.
Then back to England, to the River Wye in Derbyshire.
This is a local Nature Reserve at Staveley, North Yorkshire on a bitingly cold day which at least the bulrushes could endure.
My header photo is also from Lake Prespa. I thought the egret and his reedy background demanded colour. Just as my final shot, taken in the gardens of the National Museum, Seoul. South Korea rather requires that splash of orange.
Ferns often enjoy the dark and dank corners of a wood. They opportunistically commandeer spots next to an ancient wall, or a mossy tree trunk. These are the ones I’m showcasing for Denzil’s Nature Challenge.
And finally … living proof, from the gardens of the Horniman Museum in London, that ferns were around in the times of the dinosaurs.
A blogger whose posts I enjoy is Rebecca, of Fake Flamenco fame. She keeps her curious eyes open, as she walks and explores the natural world and other things that attract her notice. She informs herself and then her readers about social and political issues in Latin America -which I find so interesting as this is very little covered here in the UK. And she’s a poet. Every month she throws out a poetry challenge, which I always try to join in on, because she translates every poem that’s submitted into Spanish. There’s something very special about this. That she would spend time reading our work, then interpreting it faithfully, and in the same poetic style as our own efforts is quite wonderful.
This month she invited us to submit a haiku including the words waterfall of stars. I’m not someone to whom the haiku form comes easily, but we’re coming to the end of blossom season here in the UK, and I thought I’d write about that. And Rebecca rose to the challenge of translating.
Dying petals dance, faded blossoms flutter down – waterfall of stars.
Pétalos bailan flores marchitas caen– cascada estrellar.
You can find all the other entries here.
Let’s extend the definition of Spring to include a bright day in January, encouraging aconites to show their faces, right through to asphodels in May. Let’s showcase the yellow flowers of spring, brightening our days with a feeling of optimism.
Denzil’s Nature Photo Challenge #11: Yellow
It’s spring. It must be. Wild garlic has – almost overnight – started rampaging through the woodlands near our house. A light tang of garlic pervades the air. And I go foraging. This is the season for:
Wild garlic and potato soup Wild garlic pesto Shredded fine and tossed at the last moment into scrambled egg. Shredded and tossed into risotto at the last moment
Have you any favourite recipes?
And have you got a secret piece of ancient woodland where ransoms – the other name for wild garlic – flourish? If so, you’re probably as lucky as me, because wild garlic is often quickly followed by bluebells.
I took my feature photo yesterday, so it qualifies for Brian’s Last on the Card. Accompanying text is rather frowned upon. Tough. This is my post, and I’ll write if I want to.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
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