"And since to look at things in bloom / Fifty springs are little room..."

I first read the below poem in 2019, during the first year of my creative writing degree. It made a deep impression on me, and I'm reminded of it every springtime when the cherry trees in our neighbour's garden burst into blossom. 

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide.

 

Now, of my threescore years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

It only leaves me fifty more.

 

And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow.

A Shropshire Lad 2: Loveliest of trees, the cherry now by A.E. Housman

Our neighbour's cherry trees are large and hang over our garden. Each year, their beautiful blossoms fall like confetti. Likewise, in the summer, the fruit drops onto our side of the fence, and a number of our own cherry trees are shooting up. 

These trees host so much life.  In the spring, the canopy buzzes, as a variety of pollinators float around the white blossoms. Today, for the first time, I noticed blue tits eating pollen from the flowers. I didn't know they did that! Later in the year, when the blossom has become fruit, the canopy again fills with a range of birds, primarily black birds, and bright red juice rains down from their feasting. 

In truth, we can never know how many more springs we will see, how many more blooms along the boughs. So I try to cherish each one. 

Gifts of May

Our garden is pretty wild. My husband and I do very little work on it, other than occasionally strimming the grass, or pruning bushes, etc. As a result, we are greeted each year by a range of flowers that pop up. Some are wild, and some have probably spread from other gardens. Some are regular visitors, others are unexpected surprises. I love learning about them all, and love watching the pollinators enjoy them even more. 

This is Aquilegia, sometimes known as Granny's Bonnets. I'm not sure which species this one is. But they seem popular with bees, and I've read that some moth species also like them.

This is Green Alkanet, which is sometimes confused with Forget-me-not's or Borage. They all belong to the same family. It's often thought of as a weed, but I think it's very pretty. And again, the bees like them! In the background, you can see a white Foxglove. 

The name 'foxglove' has been used in England since at least 1000 A.D, and may come from the Anglo Saxon foxes-gleow, gleow meaning a ring of bells. In Norway it's called revbjelde - 'fox bell'. Some legends say that foxes wear the petals on their feet to keep them dry from the dew, others say that foxes wear the bells around their necks, for the ringing sound protects them from hunters. The bells certainly ring when a bee buzzes inside them!

Below, we have what I think is Greater Periwinkle among some Dead Nettle leaves, and the tiny flowers of Herb Robert. Herb Robert smells pretty bad - one of it's common names is Stinking Bob - but the bees don't seem to mind! It is also good for hoverflies and the barred carpet moth.

And I couldn't leave out the wonderful Dandelion. Though I've seen it so many times throughout my life, I am still awed by this incredible seed formation.