Showing posts with label Comfrey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Comfrey. Show all posts

Saturday, 8 July 2017

The Wisdom of Dandelions

It seems that almost every plant, no matter how small  or insignificant, played a part in the world of our ancestors. Plants were used for food, for medicine, for protection against witches and evil spirits, and as good luck charms. They could foretell the future, forecast the weather, bring bad luck into the house, and act as link to the otherworld of pixies and fairies.

Low growing clump of dandelions on edge of path
Dandelion - 25 April 2017
Though dandelions are abundant outside of Milton Country Park
inside there are only a few clumps growing on the edge of paths.

The dandelion - the name is from the old French dents-de-lion referring to the leaves whose shape resembles lions' teeth - has a reputation as something of an oracle.  The flowers can be used to foretell everything from a child's future wealth to the true status of a woman's love, as well as forecasting the next day's weather.  The seed heads are equally potent: blowing on the seed head can yield such diverse information as the time of day, the number of children a child will have, and the state of the blower's love life.

Germander Speedwell

Close up of a clump of speedwell
Germander Speedwell - 25 April 2017
Close up the resemblance of the flower to birds' eyes is obvious
Its alternative name is birds-eye trefoil

If the dandelion flower is for the picking, my next flower, germander speedwell, definitely is not.  To pick one of its tiny blue flowers was to risk having a bird peck one's eyes out; a belief presumably based on the resemblance of the flower with its dark blue periphery and white centre to a bird's eye.  Except in Ireland, where it was sewn into clothes to protect against accidents!

A patch of grass infused with the bright blue flowers of germander speedwell
Clumps of Germander Speedwell - 4 May 2017
The only substantial clump of this flower on a small triangle of grass at the north of the park.
Massed flowers like this add a cheerful blue flush to the meadow

In any case, the name 'germander speedwell' suggests happier assocations: 'speedwell' - a flower to speed the traveller on her way, cheered on by its masses of bright blue flowers. 

Cuckoo Pint

Close up of single cuckoo pint flower
Cuckoo Pint Inflorescence - 17 April 2017
Though large cuckoo pint flowers are easily overlooked for two reasons:
firstly, they are green; and, secondly by the time they come to flower
the plants are often hidden among the fast growing nettles and cow parsley.

The cuckoo pint (rhymes with mint, and is short for pintle a name for the penis) is the dirty postcard of the plant kingdom. The resemblance of its flowers, with their poker shaped spadix  partially enclosed in a pale green hood or spathe, to human genitalia has titillated the imagination of generations.  As a result, it has been called over 150 names including lords and ladies, devils and angels, boys and girls, naked boys, naked girls, and jack in the pulpit.  The starch in its roots was used for stiffening altar clothes, church linen and Elizabethan ruffs.

Comfrey

Path through woods lined with comfrey covered in white blossom
Comfrey - 11 May 2017
In the woods in the south of the park,
there is a large mass of comfrey growing either side of the path.

Comfrey is an example of a plant cultivated for its medicinal properties.  The name 'comfrey' , derived from the Latin 'con firma' to grow together, and other traditional names such as knitbone and boneset, reflect its value as an aid to the healing of broken bones.  It has also been used as a poultice for bruises and to relieve arthritic pain, and a remedy for nappy rash.

White Dead Nettle

Bike track with banks of white dead nettle on either side
White Dead Nettle - 17 April 2017
Up to this year, there have been just a few clumps of this plant in the park,
this year it lines the bike tracks at the south of the park.
Finally, white dead nettle reveals how much pixies and fairies were part of the popular imagination.  Its flowers, which occur in pairs, were said to be pixie shoes left outside their house.  Maybe, the likeness can only be seen after drinking a distillation of the flowers which according to Gerard makes the 'heart merry' and 'restores the spirits'. From its alternative common names of 'deaf nettle', 'dumb nettle' and 'blind nettle', the white dead nettle is three wise monkeys all rolled into one plant!

Further Reading

I have listed all my sources for this post on a separate page 'Folklore References' 

Next: Laburnum



Saturday, 14 January 2017

Last Fruit, First Shoots

Entirely appropriately for a post published in January, this article looks back at the last seeds and fruit of the old year, and the first green shoots of the plants which will eventually flower in the spring of the new year.

Two teasel seed heads silhouetted against the rising sun
Cabaret de Oiseaux - 2 January 2017
The dawning sun on a new day in a new year provides
a suitably dramatic backdrop to the seed heads of teasels from last year.

 

Cabaret des Oiseaux (or more prosaically teasel)


What a wonderful name for a plant – a spectacle of birds – if my schoolboy French is correct. With a name like that doesn't the plant look even more majestic, and can't you just see a cloud of goldfinches feasting on the seed heads? It presumably gets this name from the birds feasting on its seed heads.

Besides that name, the English 'teasel', or 'gypsy comb', or 'brush and comb', sound functional and unimaginative, all derived from the use of the seed head to tease or raise the nap of woollen cloth. Somehow, such names drain the plant of its stature and becomes just another brown plant with an industrial use. Yet, in this most drab time of year, the teasels are impressive, standing very upright, seeming to challenge the weather to do its worst and blow them down.

Teasel plants with seed heads and no leaves stand out against the sky
Tall and majestic - 11 December 2016
A group of teasel plants stand proud against the skyline.


Teasels are not widespread in Milton Country Park, but a couple of clumps in the Orchard are particularly noticeable as they are growing on top of a small bank, where these photographs were taken.

Burdock

 

Burdock fruit, velcro like hooks clearly visible
Burdock Fruit - 5 January 2017
Non-descript brown fruit easily overlooked, not so easily picked off clothing.

Burdock is another plant whose fruit are conspicuous at this time of the year, although not necessarily for the right reasons. They attach themselves with their natural Velcro to anything and everything that passes.

Unlike teasel, burdoch has attracted a host of imaginative English names besides burdock (bur a knot of wool, and dock a plant).  Along with Herrif, Airup or Aireve, derived from Anglo Saxon and mean hedge robber, other names include: personata, happy major, clot bur, fox's clote, beggars buttons, cockle bur, Robin Hood's rhubarb, and love's leaves. These last two referring to the shape of its leaves.

Burdoch first featured in this blog in September and at that time, I mentioned that it was the inspiration for Velcro, and its use for dandelion burdock cordial. But there is more to burdock in folklore than a zip and a drink.

Firstly, there is burryman: a man completely covered in burdock burrs who parades the streets of South Queensferry, Lothian, on the second Friday in August every year. The origin and reasons for this ritual, which is credited with being at least seven hundred years old and may be well be thousands of years old, have been forgotten, and we are left with theories ranging from warding off evil spirits to bringing luck for the forthcoming herring fishing season.

Secondly, burdock has been used medicinally for a wide range of conditions including skin problems, rheumatism, and cancer. It is also a liver tonic and a diuretic.

Finally, and a little whimsically, knights in the middle ages rode into battle wearing a sprig of burdock for protection!

Gelder Rose and a Hint of Autumn


Clusters of gelder rose berries amongst tangled twigs and branches
Gelder Rose Berries - 20 December 2016
The bright red berries are almost lost among the surrounding branches

At this time of year, the trees are bare, and most of the berries have fallen or been eaten by the birds, the remaining berries give the bushes a hint of autumn, an ephemeral blush of red, a barely discernible shimmy of colour. In strong sunlight, at a distance, the bush looks quite red, but close up the fruit are few and far between and overwhelmed by the bare brown branches.

So it was with these gelder rose berries, visible at a distance as a faint reddening of the hedge, closer up there were just enough, and were bright enough, to catch the eye. 

Last Apples

 


Apples still attached to bare branches high up in tree
Last Apples - 11 December 2016
A few apples still hanging on high in the branches of this tree

I was really surprised to find any apples at all still on the tree, but, as this image shows, high up in one tree there was still quite a crop. A fact that speaks volumes for the mild and benign autumn that we have had.


First Shoots


Semi circle of young comfrey plants around base of tree
Comfrey - 28 December 2016
Comfrey plants have already grown enough to be clearly visible
above the leaf litter.

On a grey December day, walking on a carpet of fallen leaves, among trees with bare branches, and no colour anywhere, it is easy to believe that nature has shut down, gone to bed, for the winter. Yet, already, there are plenty of signs of spring in the park. Plants like this patch of comfrey are easily visible above the layers of dead leaves. Also much in evidence are young cow parsley seedlings, each a couple of inches high. They will remain almost dormant, growing only very slowly throughout the winter, until April or May, when they seem to grow four feet in a matter of days, and cover the countryside with white frothy flowers.



Small seedling pushing through dead leaves
Spring in Autumn - 28 December 2016


Look more closely at the leaf litter and it is not hard to spot much smaller seedlings, with just two or four leaves, pushing their way up. It is difficult to believe that these plants, so small and tender, will survive the frost and snow of winter and blossom next spring.