NOTES from a. botanical world // May
Connect with nature, the seasons, and your wellbeing with a monthly round up of NOTES from a. botanical world from nature and gardening writer and author Sonya Patel Ellis
Cast not a clout until May be out has never held much resonance to me. Until this year, and the spring that refused to step in line with the timings we have come to expect. And so I’m holding onto my jumper, and still donning my socks, and am certainly not casting my coat or umbrella too far from that extra bag so many of us carry along. The one with the water and the snacks and the bits and bobs that make us who we are – in my case, a notebook, pens, tape measure, a random, half-opened packet of seeds, and at least one gardening glove.
There has been some pause for thought as the sun made what felt like a guest appearance over the bank holiday weekend, through light (and shade) over throngs of plants that seem to suddenly have grown from nowhere. Lush carpets of grass, a sight unseen since before last summers’ heatwave, no sprinklers required. Lace-flowered, feathery-leaved cow parsley that only requires a short stoop on my part to be shoulder high. Dandelions, daises, and clover basking in the open sunshine, cleavers and dead nettle creeping through and within the undergrowth, bluebells on the verges and in the woodland.
In the garden, there are proudly petalled tulips (in place of last month’s hangers on – the grape hyacinths, narcissi, and hellebores), hopeful fruit blossoms, and the rapidly multiplying foliage of numerous annuals, biennials, and perennials. The furry rosettes of foxgloves, the softly serrated and scented catmint, the palmate-leaved geraniums and lady’s mantle, the tendril-twirling sweet pea, the delicate but hardy nigella. For those growing their own, there are tomato seedlings, a first feast of soft buttery lettuce, and a compendium of herbs: chive and borage flowers, the ever-rampant mint, the first signs of parsley and coriander self-seeded from the year before. There are lots of jobs to do and if the warmth would just linger a little longer we will go about them merrily, casting the odd clout or two with increasing abandon.
But while spring may be slower to grace us with her presence, and cold and rain requires appropriate weatherproof clobber, there is another part of us that still runs with the months and the seasons regardless. The bit that prompts excited discussions about the making of elderflower cordial, regret about not sowing your cosmos in time, fervour about the forthcoming Chelsea Flower Show, desire to grow plants in tune with the moon (Flower Moon incoming), where to get your next nature fix, ramped up acquisition of must-have gardening books (a fully fledged compulsion in my case, once an editor . . .), observations of particularly rampant plants (I see you three-cornered leek), or wild urges to get outside, feel all the feels, and share it with the world by writing it down.
All this and more is included in my first issue of NOTES from a. botanical world (keep scrolling down folks) and is free to subscribers so please do join my community as I have lots of content to share with you from my books and writings (The Botanical Bible, The Heritage Herbal, The Birdwatchers’ Bible, The Modern Gardener, The Herb Book to name a few), work as a school gardener, writing coach and arts educator, via the wonderful people I meet through editing and commissioning gardening and nature-inspired publications, and just because I’m getting on a bit and I know things. I’ll also be filling my NOTES from a. botanical world borders with lots of exclusive content for paid subscribers so watch this space.
I’d also love to hear NOTES from your botanical world so do get in touch via email (hello@abotanicalworld.com) or Instagram (@sonyapatelellis).
Enjoy the first issue and the weekend and I’ll be back with more NOTES before the next monthly drop in early June.
Sonya X
Herewith ends my NOTES for May. Go forth into your botanical world, and do note me back.