butterflies and buddleia

the scent of the buddleia flowers lasts beyond the dye pot and is infused into the cloth from a year or more ago…. as I take out cloth for quilting the fragrance drifts up to meet me

This year I had not the heart to take a single flower when the insects have been out – our summer has been so wet recently, so inclement for them that when they emerge they need every tiny flower head. Luckily for me though, the dye from the spent flowers is just as strong in my experience, and so it is then I shall bring out the dye pot

Meantime…

Butterfly colours …

The summer season is changing – the sense has shifted, the air, the feel

Bleached grasses, grey cloud, a fresher breeze – berries ripening on elder, rose, sloe and blackberry and seeds ready to take flight

deepening season…

The meadows where we walk are changing. As some flowers and grasses die back new ones emerge. Seeds are ripening and dispersing. It is a mix of colours – many pops of pinks, some purples / mauves as well as dusty yellows and neutral sandy beiges

The blackberry flowers are out, but the wind meant capturing a blurred image. It made me think how often images are blurred when walking. Insects move so fast my eyes catch a hazy impression which makes identifying species tricky! I could have waited for the wind to pause, but this is what my eyes see of the blackberry flowers

More butterflies now in the meadows and garden, and bees of all kinds in the lavender and teasels

Working on 2 quilts – 2 more in my mind. Field recordings, natural finds, a dye pot in the making.

midsummer colour…

It has been wet this summer and the insects not as plentiful as usual so it was a delight to see this yesterday!

Yarrows in the hedgerows, the field and the bottom of the garden

The honey scent of lady’s bedstraw which appeared as if overnight in the garden. The second year of not mowing and encouraging beautiful signs of regeneration.

This – the excitement of walking down to the apple trees and under the copper beech discovering this – common spotted orchid. There are pyramid orchids in the meadows around us and more of these. It feels so hopeful.

sundrops and evening primrose…

Evening primroses – emerging and unfurling in the late afternoon for a single night

In the evenings I walk in the garden and they glow lemon yellow in the dusk

This scent too reminds me of my mother, of long midsummers and falling asleep when there is still light…

The birds love the seeds later on, and meanwhile these delicate beauties attract moths at night, bees by day

I love too how the fading flowers turn to a burnt orange red the next day

solstice flowers…

7 flowers for summer solstice

I love the rituals associated with both winter and summer solstice. We make some of our own in my family and we follow some traditions. This week the first sweet pea flowered in the garden, the scent reminding me of mothers and grandmothers…

poppies…

Some so fragile they last only a day and are so precious for that quality alone, I make sure to pause – and hard to capture as their petals flicker delicately in the breeze..

Others captivating and attracting the bees from afar…

Red oriental poppies as large as a dinner plate this year..

and standing tall in the grasses where they self seeded… I can hear the noise of bees humming inside them …

The garden is singing with these yellow ones and they choose the margins, the nooks and crannies, the edges – unfurling crinkly petals…

And suddenly up pops a ragged beauty whose petals begin to drift …

creamy white lace..

May and now into the start of June and the creamy white blossoms are here: hawthorn, elderflower and Queen Anne’s lace, and a carpet of wild garlic in the woods…

plantain the healing plant…

In my family we call these moon daisies…

A path through… intricate blossom. Very little elderflower this year though to find…

the cool colours…

Blue forget me nots in my garden sprinkle the ground, tiny blue stars..

Bluebells in the garden and the shaded glades – there are cool woods not so far away but not visited this year, where my eyes scan a hazy sea, glowing and ephemeral..

Trees after some heavy but much needed rain – walking a path looking out over a spectrum of greens and greys

Some vetch spied in the wayside hedgerows peeping out

Clover, beloved by the bees, is starting to flower in our grass and in the fields

I think it is the rain that drew me to look at these cool colours in the stillness that followed, whilst a few days ago it was the creamy white cow parsley dancing in the wind.

I made some field recordings of skylarks rising from the fields nearby. The swallows swoop the old farm buildings and this one was singing and twittering on the wires

And then last week we heard them coming, and lifting our gaze saw the first returning swifts overhead. These are sounds that mark out the turning year for us and are a backdrop to the rhythm of days and evenings and eagerly anticipated.

dandelions, buttercups and cowslips..

This post – on Beltane – is all about the yellows

Cowslips in the fields – more this Spring, or is it me looking more carefully. I have been looking inside the flowers as part of a survey and the little orange flecks are a delight.

A frosted dandelion. Many early mornings of frost followed by dry cold sunshine.

They are one of my favourite dye plants – especially for solar dye – for a slow thoughtful dye process as Spring deepens. Never the first flushes – they are needed by pollinators, so watching and waiting a while. The hope and energy of Spring returning.

Walking and watching and waiting in a daily rhythm, the fields then become studded with starry yellow – little suns

…and then, it feels to me like the moon follows the sun and the fields are ethereal with moon globes of seed

In the garden we see birds with little beaks filled with these seed heads and in a never ending long tradition we blow the seeds to tell the time and to remind us about time…

And now buttercups follow and the recent rain has helped them bloom overnight

There are yellow poppies in the garden – I must remember to take some snaps of their crinkled petals…

feathers…

At the foot of a tree which is part of an old pathway with intertwined oak trees whose branches hold each other up

I have a little collection of feathers from these walks – have to be careful tucking them in a pocket or holding them gently for the rest of the way

My Mum talked to me about finding feathers, about signs, symbols. About noticing and treasuring and thinking what they represent

Buzzard I reckon – it has photographed a bit darker than it is. I hear them most days before I look up and see them wheeling overhead.