OK. So, I can’t claim deep anguish, or that life is so burdensome that the future is bleak and lustreless. If I could, then it would be perfect. You see, today’s picture is of the flowers of the Sweet Chestnut tree. Dr Edward Bach, who we mention here from time to time, produced a flower essence from these blooms, but then Dr Bach lived in southern England and the sweet chestnuts grow well down there.
Up here in the north, the sweet chestnut tree is a bit of an oddity. We know its make and model number because, last autumn we collected several large spiky seed cases from this very tree and, not without a certain amount of personal damage – the spikes are very sharp, we prized the shells open to reveal the seeds.
At this point, had we been Roman soldiers and had we been about to go into battle, we would have made porridge from them. We gathered three spiky nut cases, which revealed a total of six small nuts. Not enough porridge for a real battle but perhaps enough for a heated argument.
We’ve been keeping an eye on these catkins as we trundle backwards and forwards on our daily amble. We were hoping that they would, well – flower. But today when we paused to inspect the tree – there where no flowers visible at all.
So it looks like that was it then.