floods of colour
May 9, 2010
This post has grown from an awareness of the spreads of bold colour that are appearing in vegetation. I am not concerned with detail and texture but basically celebrating the performance at this time of year. So, oak above . . .
. . . beech above and ivy hedge below . .
agricultural colour above and woodland floor below . . .
and woodland edge . . .
. . . spreading carpet of forget – me – not and a sheet of berberis below aaarrggh!!! . . . but smells great . .
. . a brief respite . . . before something more domestic like wallowing in the foliage and flower of the crab apple . . .
. . and then totally suburban . . . blimey! . . . can’t possibly position U A Fanthorpe next to this . . . might need to retreat back to nature and enjoy the gorse in the dark low light of this weekend in May . . . .
May 8th: How to recognise it U.A.Fanthorpe
The tulips have finished their showy conversation.
Night’s officers came briefly to report,
And took their heads off.
The limes have a look of someone Who has been silent for a very long time,
And is about to say a very good thing.
Roses grow taller, leafier,
Duller. They have star parts.
Like great actors, they hang about humbly in the wings.
On the lawn, daisies sustain their candid
Childish shout. Hippy dandelions are stoned
Out of their golden minds. And always
The rub-a-dub-dub recapitulation
Of grass blades growing. The plum tree is resting
Between blossom and fruit. Like a poker-player,
She doesn’t show her hand. Daffodils
Are a matter of graceless brown leaves and rubber bands.
Wallflowers have turned bony.
This is not the shining childhood of spring,
But its homely adolescence, angular, hypothetical.
How one regrets the blue fingertips staggering
Up from the still dank earth.