This time last year I had to take a train to see one of the sights I make pilgrimage to each May
It is no place in particular – any English country lane will do but now I walk out of the house and up by the mill pond and the farm tracks, the Queen of the May is in bloom.
Cow parsley or Wild Chervil for want of a better name – edible too for humans but most of all a feast for the eyes. In themselves, the flowers are not so spectacular – umbrels of white frosting on ferny foliage on but en masse they grow waist high to the trees and mass in their thousands for a spectacle that blurs into distant clouds
late May days still peppered with fragrant aniseed
cherished chervil memories of walks to the high verges
new creamy calves lying low in cow parsley”
(Anthriscus)
PoetryPix 
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