Country diary: the hedgerows are full of fairytale gifts
The wedding invitation says no gifts. After so long together they wish for nothing but our company. But in 17 years of friendship with this couple, we’ve shared adventures and foolery, elation and loss; we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve raised children. So the occasion merits a token, at least. I decide to forage for something.
Our local hedgerows are peaking. As I select primroses, forget-me-nots, stitchwort and sprigs of blossom to adorn the wedding cake, the earworm I’ve hosted for days starts up again: Andy Williams singing It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Christmas bells and all. It’s weirdly apt in a year when the weather has played merry hell with seasonal succession. Just weeks ago we were sledging on these hills. Birdsong greeted blizzards, the first cuckoo called in icy drizzle, and our swallows bowled in over another boreal blast. Now the branches are laden again, this time with floral snow.
Behind the masses of white are black spindles, some longer than my finger, needle sharp. One prick, a tiny drop of blood. If I close my eyes, I might sleep for a thousand years.
I close my eyes.
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‘Behind the masses of white are black spindles, some longer than my finger, needle sharp.’ Photograph: Amy-Jane BeerGuardian Today: the headlines, the analysis, the debate - sent direct to you
Read moreSunlight warms my eyelids. Violet and magenta blossom in the dark. Earth’s European cheek turns another inch to the sun. A chiffchaff calls: chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, tick-tock. He anchors me in space, but he can’t stop the clock and we time-travel together for a few beats.
A mile down the road, they are bottling the botanical geist of this hedge. Jonathan Curtoys, a former agriculture adviser to the RSPB, moved to Yorkshire to farm intensively for wildlife, and SloeMotion, the business he now runs, was inspired by the spectacular productivity of hedges he allowed to grow vast. Following the adage “what grows together, goes together”, he developed Hedgerow Gin, flavoured with wildflower hay, crab apple, nettle, dog rose and elder, and of course the sloe-bearing blackthorn. The thought inspires me as I finish my posy, and I call at the farm to buy a bottle. I note with a frisson the serving suggestion: a sprig of thyme. It’s not a gift, but a toast: to love, to life, and our precious shared fractions of for ever.
Source: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/may/29/country-diary-hedgerows-fairytale-gifts-gin-north-yorkshire
Our local hedgerows are peaking. As I select primroses, forget-me-nots, stitchwort and sprigs of blossom to adorn the wedding cake, the earworm I’ve hosted for days starts up again: Andy Williams singing It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Christmas bells and all. It’s weirdly apt in a year when the weather has played merry hell with seasonal succession. Just weeks ago we were sledging on these hills. Birdsong greeted blizzards, the first cuckoo called in icy drizzle, and our swallows bowled in over another boreal blast. Now the branches are laden again, this time with floral snow.
Behind the masses of white are black spindles, some longer than my finger, needle sharp. One prick, a tiny drop of blood. If I close my eyes, I might sleep for a thousand years.
I close my eyes.
FacebookTwitterPinterest
‘Behind the masses of white are black spindles, some longer than my finger, needle sharp.’ Photograph: Amy-Jane BeerGuardian Today: the headlines, the analysis, the debate - sent direct to you
Read moreSunlight warms my eyelids. Violet and magenta blossom in the dark. Earth’s European cheek turns another inch to the sun. A chiffchaff calls: chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, tick-tock. He anchors me in space, but he can’t stop the clock and we time-travel together for a few beats.
A mile down the road, they are bottling the botanical geist of this hedge. Jonathan Curtoys, a former agriculture adviser to the RSPB, moved to Yorkshire to farm intensively for wildlife, and SloeMotion, the business he now runs, was inspired by the spectacular productivity of hedges he allowed to grow vast. Following the adage “what grows together, goes together”, he developed Hedgerow Gin, flavoured with wildflower hay, crab apple, nettle, dog rose and elder, and of course the sloe-bearing blackthorn. The thought inspires me as I finish my posy, and I call at the farm to buy a bottle. I note with a frisson the serving suggestion: a sprig of thyme. It’s not a gift, but a toast: to love, to life, and our precious shared fractions of for ever.
Source: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/may/29/country-diary-hedgerows-fairytale-gifts-gin-north-yorkshire