in praise of cow parsley
Nothing says summer to me more than cow parsley. Cow parsley is the frumpy best friend of the flower world. Whilst everyone else is eyeing up the pretty peonies and fragrant roses, this lacy lady is standing tall and saying something with no fuss and bother.
Often overlooked, considered by many to be a weed and in fact an invasive species in the US, I love how the smell of cow parsley instantly makes summer happen for me. It reminds me of hot car journeys when we were kids, back in the days when people opened their windows on a hot day and breathed real-life air because air con was the stuff of dreams.
One of my favourite local parks has a wildflower policy which means they leave huge areas of the grass uncut and it grows silly wild. There is so much cow parsley growing rampant that the smell hits you as you walk in and it has grown so big that it towers over me, waving at me in the breeze like an old friend.
Dog walking is a whole different world in this hot, sweaty weather. It's all about hats, sun cream and bottles of water, makes a change from layers, boots and waterproofs. Not complaining.
Betsy stays covered up unless we are in a shady bit whilst Tilly doesn't get the concept of shade. Even though she is cooking, literally cooking in her shiny, black fur, she carries on romping about like a mad thing. We all get seriously happy as soon as we get to the park, especially me, I just mooch along (at speed) looking at the flowers, enjoying the sunshine and soaking up the atmosphere. It is heaven.
I love you cow parsley, live long and prosper.
Erm was that a Star Trek reference Emma? Nah, couldn't be. Move along. Quickly.