Tag Archives: wild garlic

Fairies, wild garlic, snowdrops and that wooden bird along a Devon Lane in February

March 20, 2025 philipstrange 4 Comments

The British love to discuss the weather. It’s usually an unthreatening way of interacting with other people and passing the time. In the middle of February, however, I met several people who, unprompted, moaned at length about how overcast, dull, cold and grim the weather was. This spell of depressing weather lasted nearly two weeks and the Met Office even joined the discussion by telling us helpfully that this was “anticyclonic gloom.” Apparently, an anticyclone (high pressure system) over Scandinavia was influencing our weather, leading to the gloomy conditions.

Three very wet days were the price we paid for ending the gloom but at the start of the fourth week of the month the weather changed for the better. The sun shone out of clear skies and I leapt at the opportunity to walk up the lane I have been visiting for nearly a year.

Walking down the road in the sun was a pleasure and on a grassy bank I passed, there were several celandine flowers glinting in the bright light. When I reached the lane, I paused at the old quarry and was pleased to see that the hazel trees had finally flowered, their catkins plumped up and a beautiful golden yellow. They dangled from overhanging branches in large numbers and danced in the light breezes (see picture at the head of this post). The sun was still quite low in the sky and it shone through the trees surrounding the quarry making the catkins glow as if they were tiny lights and someone had flicked a switch. Perhaps the low sun had slightly dazzled me but the more I looked, the more otherworldly this scene became especially when a breeze passed and I began to imagine Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s fairies cavorting mischievously.

These catkins are the male flowers of the hazel and each contains more than 200 florets loaded with pollen some of which will be released on to the air when a breeze passes. Pollen carried in this way fertilises a female flower when it reaches one. The female flowers are quite different, very small and rather inconspicuous and I was unable to see any on the hazels in the old quarry. I have seen female hazel flowers this year in a local public garden and have put a picture below; they are often described as resembling small red sea anemones.

Male and female hazel fkowers seen in the Leechwell Garden, Totnes. The small “red, sea anemone” -like female flowers are just above the male catkins. Although male and female flowers occur on the same tree, pollen from another tree is required to fertilise female flowers successfully, enabling cross pollination.

When I set off up the lane, progress was slow as the surface was wet and quite muddy, a result of the recent rain. Lane side banks were looking lush and fern-rich as always, but several fresh spikes of an inconspicuous but distinctive plant had appeared since my last visit. Each example had three or four spear shaped leaves forming a cup shape and the leaves of one of the plants were caught by the low sun, rendering them a semi-transparent pale green (picture below). Additional thin spikes also pushed upwards each decorated with very small greenish flowers. This is dog’s mercury, a plant that can grow in huge numbers, often carpeting the woodland floor, suppressing other vegetation.

There had been significant change in the tree lined section of the lane since my last visit although with branches still largely leafless, good amounts of light reached the track. Primrose and celandine flowers were now showing in small numbers and arrow head-shaped cuckoo pint leaves were appearing all along the lane, mostly by the side of the path. I hadn’t realised how much cuckoo pint grew here. The greatest change, though, was the appearance of many small tongues of fleshy dark green leaves by the sides of the track. These are the emerging leaves of ramsons (wild garlic). They will grow gradually, carpeting the lane in a few weeks and eventually starry white flowers will also appear. Wild garlic is popular with foragers but it grows alongside the poisonous cuckoo pint in places so caution should be exercised when collecting leaves.

The wet section of the lane.

A long section of the lane was a running stream and I had to pick my way carefully trying to avoid wet feet. The sides of the track in this wet section were carpeted with the fleshy leaves of opposite leaved golden saxifrage, a plant that grows in several other damp, dark places along the lane. It’s an unassuming plant but its yellow flowers were just beginning to show bringing some colour. The flowers lack petals but green bracts support yellow flowers and their ring of stamens.

Further on, I came across several clumps of snowdrops pushing their spiky blue-green leaves upwards in thick groups. Their beautiful, snowy white flowers looked very fresh although rather late compared to others I had seen around the town. Each flower hung from a slender pedicel allowing it to bob in a passing breeze and the green, bridge-shaped markings on the sepals were showing well.

The last section of the lane contains several areas warmed by the morning sunshine at this time of year creating a microclimate. Clumps of primrose covered in lemon yellow flowers were already taking advantage of the warmth. Last year in March, I saw several bumblebees in this area feeding from the primroses. I wondered if I would be lucky again but it seemed that February was too soon to tempt these insects out. In the same area, I also saw one flower of red campion, perhaps another result of the microclimate.

The wooden bird sculpture

Before I finish, I want to return to the wooden sculpture of a large bird that I first saw along the lane in November last year when it was being fashioned from a large tree stump by a man wielding a chainsaw. At the time, I thought it might be an owl and the sculptor, when I spoke to him, said nothing to disabuse me of this belief. The finished work has now been revealed, it’s a lovely piece of work but clearly not an owl. Gary Easton, a local resident told my wife that he thought it was an eagle. My daughter thought it was a sparrow hawk. Perhaps we should just say it is a bird of prey? I wonder, though, when I look at the bird perched on the stump, whether it is a buzzard, a species that likes to sit on posts in this way. A buzzard would also be an appropriate choice as these birds often circle over this lane making their characteristic mewing sound.

………………………….

February’s walk, the twelfth I have described, brings this set of walks to a close. It has been very interesting to follow the seasonal changes in the lane over a full year’s cycle. February’s account contains tantalising hints of Spring so I thought I would finish with part of this poem by Thomas Hardy entitled The Year’s Awakening which seems very appropriate.

How do you know, deep underground,

Hid in your bed from sight and sound,

Without a turn in temperature,

With weather life can scarce endure,

That light has won a fraction’s strength,

And day put on some moments’ length,

Whereof in merest rote will come,

Weeks hence, mild airs that do not numb;

O crocus root, how do you know,

How do you know?

Dog’s mercury

Ramsons (wild garlic) tongues

Ramsons and cuckoo pint growing side by side, a warning to foragers!

Opposite leaved golden saxifrage showing yellow flowers with rings of stamens

Snowdrops

For more about the lane and the walks please click here.

nature writing

Wild garlic, elderflower and hawthorn – the sights and smells of a Devon lane in May

May 25, 2024 philipstrange 6 Comments

Early May brought welcome sunny weather and warmth to south Devon. I didn’t get a chance to walk up the lane near our house (covered in March and April) until the second week of the month but I was keen to see the effects of the lengthening days and higher temperatures. So, on a sunny Sunday morning with a background sound of birds singing and church bells ringing I made my way up the lane.

A view lookng back at the beginning of the lane showing the thick banks of vegetation

My immediate impression was of extensive new growth with lane-side banks and the old quarry lush with vegetation, tangible signs of the forces of renewal unleashed by spring. Grasses, nettles, herb Robert with its pink flowers, red campion and dog’s mercury colonised open areas with one sunny section dominated by buttercups giving an altogether different feel. Another yellow flower, wood avens was showing in places, the fivefold symmetry of the flowers underlined by the pointy green sepals. Early season flowers, celandine, primrose, and bluebells were now just memories.

Long sections of the lane lined by trees were much darker and cooler than before as their branches had linked above the track creating green tunnels (see picture at the head of this post). Vegetation within the tunnels was now dominated by ferns which continued to unfurl creating fiddlehead and Bishop’s crozier shapes. Breaks in the tree cover allowed sunlight to penetrate and small insects danced in the bright light. The flowers on the blackthorn tree mentioned in April were finished and small green fruit were already forming, foreshadowing a good crop of sloes in the autumn.

a fern unfurling creating a Bishop’s crozier shape

developing fruit on blackthorn with remnants of stamens

Perhaps the greatest change both in the green tunnels and along other parts of the lane was in the wild garlic. The white starry flowers peaked in numbers at the very end of April creating impressive snowy drifts along the lane edges but the plants now looked distinctly past their best. Many flowers were clearly over with seed capsules forming, the leaves had lost their sheen and some were turning yellow releasing their garlic odour which accompanied much of that morning’s walk.

Some way up the lane I stopped in a sunny clearing hoping I might see insects. While I stood there, a woman with two dogs appeared from the other direction. The dogs looked worryingly enthusiastic when they saw me but, thankfully, she had them under control. She hailed me with a cheery “Good Morning!” and pointing to edges of the lane exclaimed “It’s a wonderful smell, the wild garlic.” I agreed and she added “There’s a lovely elderflower smell further along, do look out for it”. I thanked her and said I would watch out for elderflowers and off she went with her two charges.

I walked on and soon came across an elder tree and, although it was covered in developing flower sprays, only one spray was in flower and then only partially (see pictures at the end of this post). This didn’t look as though it could perfume the air and when I smelt the flowers closely, I couldn’t detect any sweet odour. I pressed on as perhaps this had been the wrong elder and I came across a section of the lane where a sweet odour hung in the air. This wasn’t a simple sweet smell but contained hints of other odours and I recognised it as the perfume of hawthorn blossom. I looked about and there was indeed a tall hawthorn tree by the path covered in flowers mostly rather high up. From a distance the hawthorn blossom looked a bit like elderflowers so perhaps she confused the two. It didn’t matter, though, as it made me think more about the sights and smells along the lane.

Hawthorn is one of our earliest flowering trees with creamy white flowers sometimes appearing as early as April. Most hawthorn flowers, though, show in the month of May and the tree is also known as May in recognition. It can grow into large trees but it has also been used for hedging and the thick coating of its distinctive creamy blossoms can transform the look of trees and bushes if only transiently. H E Bates referred to this look as “The risen cream of all the milkiness of may-time.”

The fragrance of hawthorn divides opinion. I quite like the smell but for many, the complex sweetness is unpleasant and for some, awakens thoughts of death or sex. The source of this complexity is triethylamine, a chemical produced by the hawthorn flowers to lure insect pollinators. Triethylamine has a fishy smell and is also produced by corpses and is found in sexual fluids perhaps explaining the association of the hawthorn fragrance with death and sex.

Elder blooms a few weeks later than hawthorn and the mature flowers give out a sweet odour that some find sickly-sweet. I wanted to understand why I failed to smell the fragrance from the immature flower head so I went back a few days later and found another elder with more advanced flowers. This time I did smell a sweet fragrance but still not enough to fill the air. Perhaps that comes later when all the flowers are mature. Elder leaves are said to emit an unpleasant odour so, to test this idea, I rubbed a few between my fingers and smelt. There was a slightly metallic smell along with an odour that, strangely, reminded me of coffee.

So, there was much of interest along the lane this month but the most exciting development occurred nearer to our house when at the end of April the swifts arrived after their long migratory flight from Africa. The arrival of these birds is one of the true signs of summer and they will be with us until early August.

hawthorn blossom on the tree above (taken from a distance)

For more information about the lane click here

bees, nature writing

Cuckoo Pint and Spring’s Bridal Veil along a Devon Lane in early April

April 26, 2024 philipstrange 9 Comments

The continual wet weather combined with the dismal world and national news were getting me down. Then Sunday dawned with unexpected sunshine. I had to get outside and decided to walk up the lane near our house. This was four weeks to the day since a previous visit which formed the subject of my last post and I was interested to see how much had changed since then.

The lane was a mosaic of light and shadow that morning, windy in places with the arrival of Storm Kathleen, muddy underfoot but easy walking. Flowers in different shades of yellow including primroses, dandelions and celandine had been, since my last visit, joined by buttercups to decorate the edges of the lane and there was a general sense of lush growth expressing the life force of spring. Trees were greening, ferns unfurled new fronds and the number and range of flowers had increased with stitchwort and bluebells now enhancing the new season’s celebration. The banks of wild garlic (ramsons) that line much of the lane had filled out. The leaves were now mature and covered the ground although there were still very few of the starry white flowers as if the plants were waiting for a signal to start their show.

banks of wild garlic (ramson) leaves iining the lane

All this was both interesting and therapeutic and I much enjoyed the walk but there were two events that morning that I want to describe in more detail.

The first was an odd but beautiful sight I encountered nestling on the bank at the side of the path. Pushing upwards through the vegetation was a reddish poker-shaped spear about 5 cm long partly surrounded by a thin, protective green cowl. This is the most obvious part of a very unusual flower and perhaps the most perfect example I have seen. The scientific name of the plant is Arum maculatum and most flower books refer to it as Lords and Ladies. For many years, though, I have known it as cuckoo pint. I have a flower book dating from the late 1960s which calls it cuckoo pint so perhaps that is where I learnt it but how did this unusual name arise?

A little research revealed that the distinctive shape of the flower has generated much ribald humour, often gender related, with the plant attracting a host of local names reflecting this. Some examples are: “Adam and Eve”, “cows and bulls”, “naked boys”, “willy lily”, “Kitty come down the lane, jump up and kiss me”. Apparently, cuckoo pint is another of these. “Cuckoo” has long had amorous connotations and “pint” is a shortening of the old English name pintle meaning a penis. There seems to have been a shift away from this name over the past half century, but I shall continue to call it cuckoo pint, now with an added smile on my face.

Putting the naming aside, the plant is also unusual for its pollination strategy. Hidden at the bottom of the cowl, surrounding the poker-shaped spear are a ring of female flowers, above that a ring of male flowers and then a ring of bristly hairs. When the female flowers are ready, they emit a fetid odour that attracts small flies which enter the flower and get trapped by the bristles. If the flies are carrying pollen, they will pollinate the female flowers and pick up more pollen from the male flowers when they are ready. Eventually, the bristles wither and the flies are released to pollinate another plant. All of this results in clusters of bright orange-red berries along the lane in the autumn.

Further up the lane, a break in the sycamore and hazel scrub on the right-hand side was filled by a small tree covered in white blossom. It caught the sun that morning, looking as though a sudden sharp snowfall had decorated the boughs (see picture at the head of this post). I stood there for a while, enjoying the warmth of the sun, examining the small white flowers, trying to get a good photo. For a short time, I was lost in a dreamy world of flowers and photos!

Suddenly, I felt something nudge the back of my right knee, jolting me out of my reverie. This was a shock and I had no idea what had happened until, when I turned round, there was a small dog looking up at me as if to say hello. Judging from the state of my trousers the dog must have nudged me with a muddy paw.

The dog’s owner soon appeared and was very apologetic. Seeing the white blossom tree that had held my attention, she asked what it was. I explained that this was blackthorn. She replied, saying that it looked so beautiful at this time of year and for her it was “Spring’s bridal veil”.

ashy mining bee (Andrena cineraria) on dandelion

After the dog had nudged me, I had stepped back quickly not noticing some bright yellow dandelions nearby and nearly treading on them. When I looked down there was a honey bee-sized insect on one flower, wallowing in the petals, probably drinking nectar. A closer look revealed that the insect was a furry bee, very fresh with well-defined white stripes on a black background. This was an ashy mining bee (Andrena cineraria) named for the black and white colouration which some see as ashes.

………………………

The lane was a glorious patchwork of light, form and colour that morning and the warmth of the spring sunshine and the sense that nature was moving ahead mostly normally did wonders for my mood. I was very glad to have come out and the poetic conversation with the dog owner was an unexpected bonus.

I walked the lane on April 7^th 2024

For more information on this lane click here

bees, nature writing

A Devon lane in Early March

March 22, 2024 philipstrange 8 Comments

The signs were all about. Water everywhere, cascading off fields, diving down culverts, even turning part of the path into a temporary brook. All combining to feed the noisy stream in the valley bottom below. All the result of the recent relentless wet weather.

No rain today, though. Instead, it was an unexpectedly sunny morning so I was out following a lane cut into the side of the valley heading into the countryside south of Totnes, not far from our house. The path was muddy underfoot as it climbed gently between steep soil banks and rows of scrubby trees, mostly hazel and sycamore. In summer, this becomes a dark, leafy, green tunnel but at this time of year, with branches largely bare, the bright sunshine created dappled patterns of light and shade. Small birds moved about among the trees singing as they went, the noisy stream gurgled below and the distant peal of church bells echoed across the valley heralding the start of the Sunday morning service.

With all the water about, the soil banks were a mass of lush green growth (see picture at the head of this post). Elegantly arching ferns dominated some places but the heart-shaped leaves of lesser celandine and the round, fleshy, dimpled leaves of navelwort filled in the gaps. The name, navelwort, is a nod to the resemblance of the dimpled centre of the leaves to a part of the human anatomy.

Navelwort growing on the soil banks, look for the dimples in the leaves.

Along the flat edges of the track, tongues of dark green leaves pushed upwards through the compacted wet soil. They were still quite small but the sheer numbers made them difficult to ignore. In a few weeks, the leaves will be full size and will have been joined by masses of white starry flowers providing one of Devon’s finest spring sights. I broke a piece off one of the leaves and savoured the mild garlicky odour for these are ramsons or wild garlic. When the ramsons are fully grown, just walking along the lane, brushing the leaves, will release the smell. Ramsons are popular with foragers and we occasionally use a few leaves to flavour pasta or a risotto.

Ramsons growing in large numbers along the edges of the track

In several places along the lane, creeping mats of small fleshy leaves had formed, mostly green but with patches of greenish yellow lending a golden light to darker areas. This is opposite-leaved golden saxifrage a plant that flourishes in dark, damp places and, even this early in the year, flowers were showing. They lack petals but green bracts surround the yellow flower and its ring of stamens. The plant secretes a globule of nectar to attract pollinators and on this mild morning I saw a few flies taking advantage of the sugary feed.

Opposite-leaved golden saxifrage showing the “gold” that lights up the darker parts of the lane

Close up view of the yellow flowers of opposite-leaved golden saxifrage showing the ring of stamens

A fly feeding from the nectar on flowers of opposite-leaved golden saxifrage

Further on, parts of the lane were more open allowing the morning sun to warm the soil bank. Large clumps of primroses flourished here as if in a microclimate. As I stood in the sunshine, gazing at the pale yellow flowers, my reverie was interrupted by a loud buzz announcing the arrival of a large buff-tailed bumblebee queen (Bombus terrestris). She flew about near the bank, seemingly investigating the vegetation before landing on a primrose leaf to bask in the sun. She looked sleek and fresh, yellow and white bands well defined, her coat glistening in the sunlight. She may have been setting up a new nest in the bank and finding me here will have surprised her. I moved on, leaving her in peace but wondered how she had been faring in our recent wet weather when flying must have been difficult.

Primroses growing in a sunny part of the lane

Bumblebee queen basking on a primrose leaf

The lane eventually meets a road and this allowed me to complete a circular walk back to our house. When I set out, I wondered how the plants that grow along the lane would have been affected by the recent very wet weather, but I needn’t have worried. I had seen many welcome signs of seasonal renewal that morning with the queen bumblebee perhaps being the most prominent.

To finish, here is a poem by William Wordsworth entitled “Lines written in early spring” that seems appropriate:

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:-
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

…………………………………………………

I completed this walk on March 10^th 2024. For more information on the lane I walked, please click here.

bees, Leechwell Garden, nature writing

Bee bread, benches and a crows nest in the April garden

May 2, 2014 philipstrange 7 Comments

There is no escaping it. Wherever you look, there is pulsating growth: trees, plants, birds, insects, all swept up in an orgy of renewal. From my vantage point overlooking the Leechwell Garden, the predominant feeling is green, although there were days in the middle of the month when the sun picked out the white blaze of blossom on nearby trees. Trilling wrens and chiding blackbirds provided the soundtrack, saluting the warmer weather.

It’s a favourite time of year for me, I like the feeling of everything starting afresh and alive. Shakespeare gets it right for me in Sonnet 98
When proud-pied April dress’d in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,

Others, however, see April as a time of hopes and aspirations that can never be fulfilled. TS Eliot began his poem The Waste Land: “April is the cruellest month” and, in Spring Edna St Vincent Millay wrote “To what purpose, April, do you return again?”

I don’t share their pessimism; I know autumn will come and these new leaves will wither and fall, but I also know that there will be another season of growth next year.

Down in the Garden, there has been much to see. Three new rustic benches have been installed making it even better for people to visit and spend time here. On the pergola, the clematis continue to entertain.

The tear-like buds of the Francis Rivis that I admired last month have now opened showing delicate mauve outer petals and white inner petals.

Another clematis, a Montana, has been covered with round pinkish buds resembling small grapes.

In the herb garden, a burgeoning patch of golden marjoram comes alight when the sun shines.

A clump of sweet cicely shows frothy white flowers above the fern-like, green foliage; the leaves of this plant are edible and have a mild aniseed-like flavour with sugary overtones.

Several spikes of borage seem to have appeared from nowhere as if called to stand to attention. Bees love borage; the plant is sometimes called Bee Bread so they will be eagerly awaiting the full opening of the flowers.

The far side of the Garden has a much wilder feel. A small bank of wild garlic (Ramsons) shows starry flowers beginning to appear above the fleshy leaves. Wild garlic is very abundant in the Devon countryside and the spring-smell of a woodland path lined with the plant is unmistakable. The leaves now find favour with celebrity chefs as a gentle garlic substitute.

In a hidden corner, I found some beautiful comfrey, another bee favourite. Its buds are a deep red and, once opened, there are clusters of bell-like flowers; that part of the flower nearest the plant is pale blue with the remainder being white. This unusual variety is Hidcote-blue comfrey.

Near the comfrey was an upstanding plant with copious green, heart-shaped leaves and small white flowers. This is garlic mustard or Jack-by-the-Hedge; when bruised or chopped, its leaves emit a mild garlic smell.

The bees are out and about and I have seen a common carder and a hairy footed flower bee on the white lungwort.

P4190015 — Common carder bee on white lungwort

On April 20th I noticed a bird glide gracefully down between the trees to land on the grass. It was quite large, predominantly dark but with pale patches on its wings and my first reaction was that it was a buzzard. It stalked about the Garden, occasionally stopping to eat and with its long tale and dark plumage it reminded me of the proprietor of a posh French restaurant eyeing up his staff and clientele while keeping his hands clasped firmly behind his back. The more I looked the more I realised this was no buzzard and most likely it was a very large crow with a few pale feathers. The bird kept returning to the Garden and I found this puzzling until one day I saw it land on a nearby tree. On the tree was another crow sitting on a nest made of twigs balanced between two branches. Both birds are occasionally on the nest together; there will be a new crow-family before too long.

This is the fifth of my monthly reflections on the Leechwell Garden in Totnes. To see what I wrote in earlier months, follow the links at the end of this post or put “leechwell” in the search window.

Thanks to Hazel Strange for improving the photos I took on April 19, 26 and 27.