Violets - white and violet, sweet and dog

I have a migraine today which makes my brain work very slowly – if at all – so I won’t do much here except to bring you some more pictures of spring flowers.

Here is a white version of violet which I photographed at the weekend on a bank next to our local canal.

There are two types of violet – the ‘sweet’ kind which is scented and the ‘dog’ kind which isn’t. According to one of my wildflower books, bees love the nectar of sweet violet. I couldn’t detect any scent on these flowers, but here is a bee on one. (Sorry it's a bit fuzzy. As you can see, I still haven’t got the hang of taking close-ups.)

Here are some violet violets which I photographed at the end of April last year near the River Otter (for one of my contributions to Favourite Walks in Devon).

It was a beautiful sunny day

With our old friend, stitchwort

The hedge was full of them

Wild orchids

Primrose and the leaves of Early purple orchid

The lovely spotted leaves in the picture above belong to the Early purple orchid, whose flowers should be out in a few weeks’ time. I’ll try and get a picture of them for you.

All orchids are rare because they all have very specific and different requirements – for example, with respect to habitat, soil or pollinating insects, and because some of them flower only intermittently – ie, not every year. The Early purple is one of the less rare, but it is still uncommon.

It is illegal in this country to disturb any part of any wild orchid. In other words you can’t pick either leaves or flowers, or take seeds, or dig them up. Whether this protection extends to developing land on which orchids grow, I don’t know. I hope so. (It didn’t stop them driving the M25 through the North Downs however. This is where I grew up and where I first learnt about orchids, the Downs’ poor chalky soil being ideal for a variety of rare plants.)

I found these leaves in a small patch of woodland near home. The woodland has been left untouched because it is growing next to a stream in a valley far too steep to cultivate. When I wandered there on Friday, with the sun flickering through the bare branches and the tree trunks squeaking as the wind rubbed them against each other, I felt as if I was back in a fragment of ancient woodland, connected to the birth of the planet.

Ellie loved it too.

Ellie. (Picture by Rachel last summer.)