I go for a walk as the day has cleared from dismal to blue, though still a little chilly for May. I am drawn how can I help it to the May blossom and it’s spreading out sending its feelers across the undergrowth of bracken and nettle, who is owning who I wonder, a bit of everything i answer, I look at them all together and think of a beautiful tea that must be full of goodness and health boosting properties.
The may blossom makes shapes with the undulating steps and the rails make a beat in a delicious rhythm as i pass, and I have to retrace my steps to appreciate it some more
I pass the place where the dead tree was felled, as far as I can see unnecessarily, the sawn chippings lie spilt still on the ground, I hold that moment of anger towards machines that make destruction so easy.
I go on up to Scotland for some air. I hear people above when I am at the well and nearly change my mind but don’t, there are people by the swing, a group of men who have crossed paths, talking about the price that can be got for pups from breeding dogs, and a pair of young women at the swing, who let me by, 3 distinct groups doing their things in the Glen, I hear a shriek of laughter from behind and I see that one girl has landed on the muddy ground. Walking on I enjoy the golden broom, more plentiful this year, perhaps because the gorse is less so, I muse. Then a slug catches my eye, glistening in the sun, as i watch I can see the bite marks taken from the pea flower of the broom, I can almost hear her chomping, and not for the first time wonder how something so boneless can have such a powerful bite.
As I get up close and from behind the lens I notice another resident in the gorse bloom, a single ant. I see the foxglove and its tongue-like leaves almost ready to unfurl its flower head and I admire the fern with its fists turning to fingers next to the prickling gorse. On I go and now I see inhabitants everywhere, the willow herb has its ‘cuckoo spit’ what creature blows such bubbles for a nest and how perfect a home this must be while it lasts.
from Gardeners’ World:
** Inside each mass of cuckoo spit is a juvenile yellow-green froghopper (or spittle bug). Despite being a sap-sucker, this small bug is is completely harmless to plants. The adult froghoppers (which don’t produce any spit) are 6mm long and bright green, with large eyes and a blunt-shaped head, but they’re rarely seen because they hop away on their strong back legs at the first sign of danger.