Documenting the seasons of coastal Dorset. I'm a complete amateur so don't trust I'm always right. If ever you see I'm wrong - whether with identifications or in anything else - do say!

Saturday, 28 August 2010

PODS AND CLOCKS AND BERRIES


This is an autumn feast. It's a no information, just look post.

All the pictures (except for the one of the damsons) are cropped from much larger ones so they aren't clickable. (A crop is as good as a click - but quicker.) I don't know what all of them are even though they all belong to common plants. (This blog, after all, is knee deep in ignorance.)

So here's for a seedy walk in August Dorset.


GROUND ELDER


ELDERBERRY.

No relation. For people who are unfamiliar with elderberries, they grown on a tree whereas Ground Elder . . .



THE CLOCK OF A HORRIBLE PLANT 

with spikes sticking out of its leaves and small, yellow flowers.


SEEDHEAD OF A WHITE, UMBELLIFEROUS PLANT.

There are masses of such around and I wouldn't dare say which one this is.







DAMSONS


ROSE BAY WILLOW HERB

And there are, of course, more; this is but a sample. Miles and miles of nature being fecund, prolific, colourful, textured and generous. Hurray!

21 comments:

Gary said...

Lovely photo's but I don't like the idea it's autumn already.
Gary

leavesnbloom said...

Love that seedhead from that umberlliferous flower of yours. Haven't seem a nice seedhead like that around here yet. Our elderberries are not even black yet.


There's quite a breeze here today and if you kept your mouth open long enough either a thistle, rosebay willowherb or dandelion seedhead would find its way in there lol.............. or else a hoverfly - the air is full of them just now isn't it.

Lucy said...

Hello Gary.

I think our season must be ahead of yours - as you were suggesting over at Esther's Garden Notes in relation to the spider.

I love autumn. I'd be happy if we could have autumn all year round. I come alive in autumn. Summer wilts me. It takes away my all my energy and enthusiasm. The wind blows life back in - inspiration!

Lucy

Lucy said...

Hello Leavesnbloom.

It didn't seem odd that we may be ahead of Cambridgeshire with our autumn but I'm very surprised we are ahead of Scotland.

I think it's probably lack of water. Plants haven't been able to last the course. We are having lots of rain now - and the wind is actually howling (howling!) while I write this (though the sun is shining too).

Last week, we had an upsurge in ladybirds and hoverflies but they seem to have gone again.

Lucy

Lucy said...

Oh! P.S. to both of you.

I didn't take all these photos in a batch so some are a fortnight old - which means we are even further forward than this post might suggest.

Lucy

P.S. to the P.S. - though obviously some plants fruit sooner than others. I'm not suggesting autumn arrives with the first strawberries!

Rosey said...

Fecund is one of my favorite words.

Yes, Fall is coming! A break from the watering. Now, onto the raking.

Lucy said...

Hello Rosey.

We too have had a very dry summer. The rain which is arriving in our part of England is, for the most part, warm and gentle at present and very, very, welcome. The cooler air is special too.

I'm not sure about the word 'Fecund'. I nearly didn't use it. It sounds vaguely rude.

Raking is wonderful. It's one of the best activities ever devised for gardeners. (Along with falling over in the leaves and having bonfires!)

About the word 'Fall' - usually, I like to be very English in my vocabulary and pronunciation but I'd happily swap 'Fall' for 'Autumn'. It's perfect.

Lucy

Monica the Garden Faerie said...

Are damsons edible? The umbrel flower looks like Queen Anne's lace, but there are a ton of flowers with that form, t'is true.

Lucy said...

Hello Monica.

Yes, we've been eating the damsons (cooked).

They are tarter than plums and have a distinctive, underlying flavour that I can't describe but is strong and good.

There's a greater stone-to-flesh ratio than with plums which irritates some people when cooking them for pudding with custard but damson jam is very popular.

It's an absolutely bumper year for them round here, with the fruit rammed along the stems of the trees.

The umbelliferous plant isn't Queen Anne's Lace. It's not tall enough and the individual little flowers are too close together. I cropped this from a photo which I used whole in the last post. Meredith suggested Queen Anne's Lace then but, although common names can be used differently in different areas, I don't think . . . well, if you see the big picture you might be able to judge from the flowers.

Lucy

Mary said...

It's such a wonderful time of year, isn't it? As you say, the fields and hedgerows are filled with nature's bounty, which is always good grist for photographers. :)

Lucy said...

Hello Mary - and it's not just the wonderful things to be photographed, the light is fantastic too.

Lucy

elizabethm said...

You are yet another who is challenging my prejudice against autumn. I remain very profoundly a spring person but I am slowly on the move to an appreciation of autumn. I think it might be something to do with getting older. Love your pictures. We are off looking for damsons tomorrow. I love them, even if the stones do drive me mad. The flavour is the best form of plum.

Lucy said...

Hello Elizabeth.

I've always liked autumn best. It may have something to do with being very fair skinned when young and not being able to be in the sun without burning and headaches. I'm tougher now (!) but still find autumn liberating and exhilarating.

(I'm also a bit anti-summer because there's always someone who wants me to sit around in the sun in a holiday kind of way and I find that very boring. Doing nothing on beaches . . . aagh!)

As I get older, I think I am beginning to appreciate spring more. Until recently it has always seemed a bit pathetic, rather small and to be peered at rather than launched into.

(Apologies to spring lovers but, as I say, I'm beginning to get a bit of the hang of it.)

Lucy

Mr. McGregor's Daughter said...

I love autumn too, and it's delightful to see such lovely berries as the Elderberry. I would love to try elderberry wine, but I don't know anyone who makes it and I have no elders.

Val said...

Lovely post!

Lucy said...

Mr McGregor's Daughter - it's a shame you have no Elderberry trees because, of the home made wines I have tasted, it is one of the best - my favourite along with gorse wine (which is such a fiddle to produce I've only come across it once!).

It's interesting when you say you don't know anyone who grows it because - neither do I. It seems only to grow in the wild. I don't know why. Maybe someone else can say.

It is a lovely tree. It can be kept compact. It doesn't grow specially tall tree and it has branches low as well as high so it is bush like when in leaf. The flowers are beautiful - like white, flowery plates and . . . then it has the berries. I can't think what drawbacks the Elderberry Tree has that are not shared with other bushes and trees people are happy to grow in their garden. To my mind, it is a lot nicer to look at than buddleia which can be very sprawly.

Lucy

Lucy said...

Thanks Val.

Lucy

Gabriele Agustini said...

Your blog is fascinating!!
And your photos are beautiful!
Thanks for sharing,
gabriele

Lucy said...

Thanks, Gabriele.

Lucy

BLOGitse said...

Oh man, I almost got a heart attack when I got your comment! :)
You're back! So much has happened...I've moved...you have a new blog...(I didn't leave a message to the other one because you don't have Name/URL comment option there...(a hint))

Oh boy, I didn't even look at the photos here..wait a sec...Hurray! You've been outside! :) walking and shooting - good for you!

I'll subscribe this blog - don't want to lose you again!
Nice to have you back!!!

Lucy said...

Hello Blogitse. Well, it was a bit difficult to blog without a camera! Then I needed to get used to the new one (Canon S90) so I've done some posts here and now I'm back at PICTURES JUST PICTURES daily too - so everything feels as if it's back to normal.

Hope your new life in your new place is working out well.

Lucy