One of the great joys to me is seeing a wildflower in its natural habitat for the first time, especially if I have become familiar with it through such means as in books or seeing it in a garden – mine or anyone else’s. In recent years, however, this is something I am most likely to experience when traveling abroad; having surveyed wildflowers locally to me for over a decade it is rare to see something unfamiliar.
Last week I was in South Devon, in an area I hadn’t visited before, and driving down the narrow country lanes lined with flowers was a really joyful experience. Many of my favourites abounded – Red Campion, Cow Parsley, Foxgloves, Herb Robert, Shining Cranesbill, Buttercups, Ferns, and even late bluebells. But every so often there was a plant or patch of plants that were different. Umbellifers, but more yellow than anything that grows near me. I started to get interested – what was it? Traveling at car speed gave little chance for detailed looking, but the leaves and general colour did not appear to resemble any plant I knew.
Suddenly I realised: Alexanders, otherwise known as Parsley of Alexandria. One of the first mentioned in any book on foraging thanks to alphabetical listings, too far gone to try it on this occasion, but no less exciting to see. England has once again proved to me that treasures and rarities are there to be found.The photos shown here were taken on a cloudy afternoon, mostly along a road that is rarely driven on near Malborough. However more frequented roads were equally well lined with flowers – and often had fewer nettles or brambles. I was reminded of comments I have read about leaving areas for nature to do its own thing, particularly at Findhorn or Perelandra; this was a perfect demonstration of how glorious the natural world can be if man doesn’t interfere. Moreover, footpaths or this ‘unmetalled road’ had fewer flowers, as did others I walked, and I was shocked to discover some field edges had virtually nothing except nettles, thistles and brambles growing amongst the hedgerows. On a personal level, it reminds me not to interfere more than necessary with my own wild edges!