Garden meadow

A few years ago we decided not to mow the lawn one summer, to see what would happen. I have lost the list of wild species that we identified, but I know there were 13 of them, including speedwell and scarlet pimpernel - in a small suburban garden.

I stopped mowing my lawn for a while, I only got one wild species --- Mrs. P

We've got a small one. I know we've got ragged robin, meadowsweet (love the smell, reminds me of Johnsons baby powder) and loads of ox eye daisies. For anything else I will have to take a wild flower book up to investigate. Its DH pet project actually - the only bit of the garden he does do, apart from the mowing.

Been out pulling up bracken and sorrel and cutting down dock before they all seed/spore. DH has been out with a scythe on the front bank (45° slope). I feel less guilty about not doing the mowing any more (it 'does my chest in') when I see him come in from a bit of scything or motor mowing looking red in the face and in need of a shower. One of my more active friends who does gardening for others for pay and who runs ultra-marathons and mountain marathons in her 'spare' time from that and raising three kids, says: Mowing's a fella's job anyway.

Pompa said:
I stopped mowing my lawn for a while, I only got one wild species --- Mrs. P

I'm a bit miffed that my husband won't mow - but nothing works to get him to do it until we are knee deep. I'd do it myself but I wouldn't know how to even start the thing. Still the hens love the weds that grow - various dandelions, plaintain, purslane, and chickweed. Unfortunately they can't have dock leaves - bad for them.

I love wild flowers and miss the English ones, as I live in Australia. I remember picking poppies when Dad took me for walks past the corn fields, and picking bluebells in the woods. All this is probably not allowed now. There was one little field full of wildflowers but no-one went near. it was the plague field, a field next to a church where we believed, probably correctly, that bodies from the great plague were buried there. I remember it had quite a low level - the wall on the street side was quite short, but when you looked over there was quite a long drop.

Oh, one more thing - anyone else found their Mum went berserk if they tried to take May blossom into the house? I picked some because I thought it was ever so pretty, but something from the pagan past freaked Mum out.

May (hawthorn) was the witches' tree. Bringing it indoors was inviting the witches in. I believe it was one of the sacred trees of the "old religion" along with mistletoe.

It is supposed to smell of death too. I don't know about that but it certainly smells distinctive.

Then there is "ne'er cast a clout till May be out", which means keep your vest on, either until the hawthorn flowers or until the end of the month of May, depending on the prevailing weather in your locality.

I'm from the North West and May blossom was definately not welcome in our household as it was considered to be unlucky.