Thursday, May 28, 2009
cystus, tennis balls, buttercups
Bees and cystus.
In the compost heap, I find a composted tennis ball, its woolly wrapping reduced to a rag, its central rubber sphere intact - smooth, black rubber. Another tennis ball emerges, this time in reasonably good condition. With some of the compost brushed off it's good enough for serving.
What are weeds, someone said, but plants growing where you don't want them. Today, I find a lettuce in a row of beetroot, and one of those oriental mustard, among the broad beans. The mustard, a broad leaved plant, with a purple tinge to its leaves, has an appetizing, spicy taste. Both the lettuce and mustard are wanted and will remain with their new neighbours until required for the table.
Meanwhile the section of the Grove, where the grass, now naturally seeded with wild flowers has been allowed to grow, is beginning to look free and shaggy as intended. Among the tall grass, sport buttercups. The most ordinary of flowers, they are often thought of as weeds when they appear on lawns and in vegetable beds, but here, they are allowed to show off and reach up from the end of their stalks to be looked at. The French call them boutons d'or, gold buttons.