When spring comes, blue butterflies congregate around the egg yolk
yellow flowers of the Birds-Foot Trefoil. Their flowers are affectionately referred to as grandma’s toenails
due to their curled petals. To me, they are more reminiscent of the kinked-up slippers worn by sultans, or by
elves with little bells on.
The Birds-Foot Trefoil appear in small clusters in May, and flower
throughout the summer only to disappear into a deep hibernation at the
first winds of autumn.
In arid, salty conditions the violet tree mallous thrives. These clever little
flowers expel salt through glands on their shiny leaves, allowing them to
survive in abundance in locations where other flowers dare not roam. I
find one, she is a welcome site near the car park.
Endurance seems to be the unifying trait, holding the creatures
of this wild place together. Perhaps, it is also some sense of self-
flagellation or desire to test my own resistance that brings me back
time and time again.
I search for Pheasant’s eyes, a flower commonly mistaken for the poppy.
Their bright crimson flower isn’t easy to find, however once seen it is
rarely forgotten. Despite their reputation as a favourite snack of nibbling
rabbits, I always find at least one during my walks.
Winter at birling gap is a time of silence. After the busy migration
period, time slows around this rocky outcrop. Little moves in the
meadows and the wildlife braces itself for the foul and unrelenting
storms.
The yellow flower of gorse dots the landscape like the erratic work of
a pointillist. It endures the cold and bravely brings sunny joy on dark,
overcast days. Its heavenly coconut scent is never far away.
When the sun lurks low in the sky, the secret histories of this
environment emerge to the fore. Shadows are cast over the low banks
which remain from prehistoric field barriers long since erased.
Bronze age burial mounds linger on the cliff top. I get the sense that we
have always known this place as one of commemoration and