The End of Spring

 I haven't had much wandering time lately but this week I've hit the mead again - an evening waist-deep in flowers and meandering home along the river bank, and a rainy afternoon in the woods. Over the last few months I have given you a taste of a Runnymede spring; this will be the last of these posts as we are now heading into summer. The official transition is still more than a week away, but I judge it by the elderflowers. They are now beginning to go crazy, so this year it is now more-or-less summer.

The grass in the meadow that is never grazed is now hip-height in places and even taller near the hedges. The colours change from part to part, with great swathes of white, red, yellow and green. In the meadow in the photo above, which is often grazed but hasn't been for perhaps two months, the grass is only knee high and the mix of flowers is still relatively springlike.

The riverbank is a truly special place in the twilight. Shapes that are familiar by day become strange and looming as you would expect as the light levels fall, but the effect is doubled by the reflections on the water which are perfect as the Thames has been relatively slow here lately and it becomes mirror-like when the boats stop.

From the woods, I have just a couple of curiosities for you as by and large I was seeking out raw material for some very particular images. The two things I wanted to show you are the largest nettle leaves I've seen in a long time (significantly larger than my hands - yet they look young enough to eat) and the picture below shows what has become of my beloved bluebells - strange green globes looking like paper lanterns. I think that's the next generation secured!