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Wild Garlic

The clocks went forward last night. Hello SPRING!

I remembered the clock change through my slightly alcohol fuelled and hazy trip to the loo at 0400. I rarely check the time when I awake through the night but last night I was disorientated and it took a good few moments to remember where I was.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the car yesterday afternoon was the overwhelming aroma of Wild Garlic. The scent drifts enticingly through the wet Spring ground and through pins of rain and settles in a happy spot in the Pineal Gland assaulting our senses and awakening our primeval desire to create: rebirth, growth and a certain longing.

Having indulged in far too much chocolate, coffee, fresh mushrooms, eggs from the chickens in the garden and local home baked bread, we booted and suited ourselves and headed into Cot Valley and towards the coast.

M has lived in St Just for more than 12 years and yet I am still discovering new walks and a changed perspective on each visit.

Today was no different and we had to shelter under a tree for a few moments as the hailstones assaulted not only our senses, but the nearby gardens, paths and gutters.

The shower was short-lived and we were soon able to progress our walk. Within moments we were seeing and hearing the crashing waves, watching the spume bash against the lighthouse off Land’s End, and witness the rollers charging in from the Atlantic, all the way from America to finally subside and wash the Cornish beaches.

M and I marvelled at the awakening of the sleepy wild flowers: Primrose, Orchid, Gorse, Stitch Wort and Bladder Campion and respected the areas cordoned off to protect the choughs as they nest and begin to rear their young on the exposed coastline.

Woody – a scruffy and adorable Labradoodle intertwined comfortably between us all, gradually accumulating a satisfactory amount of mud on his coat, which he happily shared with our legs as we arrived home.

The lamb is nearly done, the children are settled and content, the wine is flowing and the men are declaring themselves as chefs extraordinaires!

Wild Garlic – a poem

White sweet flowers, snowdrop-like but petite;

a generous aroma defining Spring

tantalising taste buds yet challenging expectations.

Yellow gorse absorbing bursts of sun and heat

until Summer’s release of the extraordinary tropical scent –

part passion fruit, part coconut.

Daffodils, Iris, Primrose and Violet –

Nature’s contrasting colours,

laying to rest the greys of Winter.

Easter, Spring, growth and re-growth,

love, enjoy, believe, absorb.

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