That time of year when the sun loves the north so much, even when it does deign to dip below the horizon it leaves twilight behind as a reminder. I was out before dawn on the solstice, and the river was already aglow with mist.
And the flowers – they drink in the light. But they are more particular than one might expect. Goatsbeard, or jack-goes-to-bed-at-noon, shuts itself up after astronomical midday.
Southern marsh-orchids time themselves for seasons, rather than hours, and are fairly judged the jewels in the marshes’ carpet.
And here’s wild borage, a new species for me. I haven’t known it long enough to learn its moods.
Norfolk may be most famous for its feathered wild things, but there are plenty of stars growing quietly around our feet.
A Walk with Wildlife 
Leave a comment