laxton's epicure
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 January 2024].
firethorn
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 November 2023].
I'm mixing things up a bit with a new Friday* series, fruitful, a series of photographs I've taken of fruit that complement two of my other series: a floral tribute and the fungus among us.
These berries are on the Pyracantha plant, commonly known as firethorn, and I photographed them overhanging the back fence of a home that backed onto Pondwicks Meadow in Amersham Old Town.
According to Wikipedia, the English have used firethorn to cover unsightly walls since the late 18th century.
Its thorns also make it an attractive and organic form of home security.
*I try to share photos from these series on Fridays, but sometimes they're belated. But I usually share them on social media the following Friday as part of #FloralFriday or #FungiFriday. This new series will fit the #FruityFriday theme.
granny-pop-out-of-bed
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 November 2023].
This post isn't the first time I've shared a photograph of hedge bindweed for my series, a floral tribute. And I'm sure this won't be the last.
Despite being considered a noxious weed in the US and being able to overwhelm and pull down cultivated plants, including shrubs and small trees, and potentially toxic to humans and animals, I think the flowers are beautiful. I tend to photograph them in most places I find them.
In particular, because they're often found in the least beautiful places: by railway lines where people have tossed their trash, growing by or over derelict structures, in the overgrown perimeters of parks and other tended spaces (often alongside brambles and, in this case, stinging nettles).
Reading more about them, they seem like something out of a horror film: they can self-seed, and their seeds can remain viable for as long as 30 years. And whole plants can regrow from discarded roots. Apply those concepts to "dead" humans, and you have the storyline of many of my favourite horror films and novels.
old man's mustard
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 25 October 2023].
Once again, my photography introduces me to new things. I learn from it all the time.
I had difficulty deciding on a title for this post based on the various names for Achillea millefolium: yarrow or common yarrow.
According to Wikipedia, it has many evocative alternative names, including arrowroot, nose bleed, death flower, eerie, hundred leaved grass, knyghten, sanguinary, seven-year's love and snake's grass.
I settled on the one I spoke out loud and chuckled at as I read it.
Apparently, in Ireland and Great Britain, it was believed to be able to foretell your romantic future.
It appears ingesting it has positive and negative effects on humans and animals.
And, for a kid growing up in the 80s, I was amused that yarrow was used to make pick-up sticks. (Though, if I remember correctly, ours were brightly coloured plastic).
These particular specimens were obviously at the end of the season. I photographed them on 10 September 2020 in Pondwicks Meadow in Old Amersham.
the queen's head
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 September 2022].
ballroom blitz
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 May 2022].
The ballroom at Bletchley Park.
sunflowers
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 5 March 2022].