Gorse extravaganza

 

You may be able to find gorse (Ulex) flowering somewhere in the forest on any given day, though it's at this time of year that we're granted a gorse extravaganza. Even on a dull day like today the flowers radiated a sweet coconuty aroma; if you were wanting to make some gorse flower wine, we're now entering the best time to be gathering flowers. Gorse was a favourite of the wines we 'crafted'; we'd make the yearly pilgrimage to the Kimmeridge bowl where tradition had become we'd gather our flowers, enough for 5 gallons of wine usually. Always a clean crisp wine; we'd use a chablis or Chardonnay yeast as I remember. I fancy making wine again; after all home made wine/beer was big in the 70's, and as we're economically back in the 70's I think it's time for a resurgence.

Coltsfoot

Coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara) reminds me of asparagus spears with dandelion flowers on.  Round these parts they flourish on the unstable mud slides of the Barton under-cliff, and around now swathes of yellow/orange flowers are opening to the spring sun. Their leafless stems (the leaves will form later)  have pushed up through the grey mud of the Eocene sea bed slowly making its way home, to dot a monochrome landscape with spots of gold.  Years ago we used to collect flower heads here to make a white wine, nice it was too. We used to use the leaves in other ways too, mostly as a constituent of herbal teas, we were right into that.   The German government banded the sale of Coltsfoot, still a popular herbal remedy, after recent studies showed toxicity causing liver problems, though they mainly appear to have been in infants. Still, worth bearing in mind. Can't hurt you looking at them though.

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. 

Gorse

I used to worry when I saw Gorse flowering in the winter, worried that it was a sign of impending climate doom. And, although the climate may be doomed, gorse flowering isn't a sign of it. Then I discovered that there are several species of subtly different Gorse, and that Gorse can be found in flower somewhere at any time of the year.  Gorse (Ulex) is a spiky evergreen shrub, very common across most British environments and is a useful plant in many ways. In harsh winters livestock will forage for Gorse, the forest ponies particularly enjoy the regrowth from forestry Gorse burning. Humans too can enjoy the flowers in salads, or as Hobbit and I used to do, make a very palatable white flower wine of it. Best picked for wine in Spring, when as the sun begins to warm the land the heady aroma of coconut created by the Gorse flowers fills the air. Beautiful. Just thinking about it reminds me of the joys of foraging and wine making, and drinking. If you've ever burnt Gorse you'll know it burns fast and fierce and in many regions it was utilized to heat bread ovens, being very sustainable and being invasive, easy to cultivate. It's wood is durable and weather resistant, and being tight grained and non toxic is good for spoon whittling.  All round a useful plant, although I'd imagine now much overlooked.