The opportunist

Nature, the great opportunist. How long do you reckon it would take for nature to completely obscure the works of man if left unchecked. I'd wager not so long.

Primrose

The Primrose (Primula vulgaris), surely the most beautiful of our new year flowers, its' sunny demeanour reminding us of warmer days to come. We tend to think of the Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis) as our traditional first sign of spring, although it wasn't always so, in truth the Snowdrop only arrived in Britain from France in the 1500's to grace Tudor gardens and wasn't recorded in the wild until 1770. So really it's the Primrose that should rightly hold the title of first sign of spring.

First rose

 

The Primrose (Primula vulgaris), don't you just love them, they have the power to always lift the spirit.

Spring Equinox

 

Light's been in ascendance since the Sun's return at the Winter Solstice, and now the Sun's reign begins proper. With growing warmth everything throughout nature stirs; verdant new shoots reach for the sky as spring blooms and blossoms; across the open fields hares box and race; in the forest the mares will soon be giving birth; whist the chorus of excited song from hedgerow and canopy is universal. An equinox blessing to y'all at this moment of awakening; game's on.

Imbolc

The wheel delivers us once more to Imbolc and the land's awakening, out there the nascent potential of nature is tangible in her swelling buds, green shoots and early blooms. This time last year we couldn't have known that Covid would see our seeds for a year's hopes and dreams fall on salted ground, never even to sprout. It's been a hell of a 12 months. This year my hope is just one simple word...better. Better for everyone. Imbolc blessings y'all /|\

Primrose

The Primrose (Primula vulgaris) is one of my favourite spring wild flowers, they're always a joy to behold, particularly when found on mass...so pretty.

A Primrose!

I know the Primrose (Primula vulgaris) is one of the earliest flowering of the spring plants, they're usually in flower from about the end of February / beginning of March, but surely the first week of January is taking the piss. That said I do love them, especially when carpeting an ancient woodland. Years ago a friend and I used to make a lot of flower and fruit wines, and on one occasion came across a secluded (I mean really secluded, to the point of being hardly accessible) wood in Purbeck packed with Primroses, where we collected enough flowers to make a gallon of wine each (you didn't need that many really). The wine was very nice as I remember, and even after we'd collected you'd not have known we'd been there.  You don't have to have a destructive impact on nature to enjoy her bounties.  I've been back to the wood many times since and it still hosts a thriving Primrose community. 

Primrose

A bit tattered and worn, but these are first Primroses I've seen this year.