Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea) are growing more vigorously around the garden than in previous years. I ascribe this to the fact that next door had an evergreen Holm Oak removed earlier in the year which has allowed more ambient light in.
 Foxgloves are biennial and every year I gather their seed and grow a new "crop". I'll be interested to see if they start self seeding now they seem to find the conditions more favourable.
 The classic Foxglove has flowers of rich red/purple hues but there is a white flowered form I have grown before and I suspect that they have intermingled courtesy of the bees. Several I planted out this time round have flowered in pinkish tones as though white has been suffused and stained with red.
 Looking closely at the flowers the speckled markings to tempt/guide bees in are very noticeable...
   

 There are big clumps of Comfrey on the allotment. They may be Russian Comfrey (Symphytum x uplandicum), which is a naturally occurring hybrid of S. officinale and S. asperum. It grows wild and is a well-travelled variety with an intriguing history.
 Comfreys were known by names like Bruisewort and Knitbone because their leaves used as a poultice were reputed to have such properties. The leaves are also a rich source of nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium which has long interested gardeners as an additive to compost and for steeping in water to make liquid fertiliser.
 I believe the name Russian Comfrey stems from the nineteenth century when it was imported from Russia by the Essex smallholder, Quaker and organic pioneer Henry Doubleday. His work was continued by Lawrence Hills under the auspices of the Henry Doubleday Research Association and he developed various strains, notably Bocking 14 which is still widely grown today.
 Perhaps some previous allotmenteer planted it as a green manure but Bocking 14 is sterile (i.e. can only be grown from root or crown cuttings) whereas this one springs up all over the allotment so it must be seeding. Comfreys are very prone to crossing and re-crossing with each other which suggests these might be Russian Comfrey going native or perhaps Common Comfrey (S. officinale) going Russian!   
 Anyway the biggest, fattest bumblebees are all over them...

 

 Not a meadow in the countryside but a neglected patch at the allotments. Growing through the coarse grasses are the plum purple flowers of Aquilegia (not sure which variety it is), some airy umbellifers (probably Cow Parsley) and tall swaying Ox-Eye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare).
 The Aquilegia no doubt seeded from some nearby garden or allotment. Cow Parsley and related umbellifers grow everywhere and Ox-Eye Daisies thrive on disturbed ground- most years they put on a fine display alongside many railway lines.

 After being away from London for several days I see various summer flowers have bloomed. I think we can call it summer now?
 The pink flowered Geranium in the top photo seeds all over the garden and clumps up. I think it's some variation of Geranium endressii, possibly the one known as 'Claridge Druce'.
 The white flowered form of Dame's Violet aka Sweet Rocket (Hesperis matronalis) has a particularly translucent glow as the sun goes down. It's a short lived perennial so I plant some each year and it is starting to seed around as well.
 Pale blue/mauve flowers smother the fresh green foliage of the Trailing Bellflower (Campanula poscharskyana) which loves to scramble along brick, stone and concrete under the impression that it's back home in the Caucasus mountains.
 I'll be in and out of London in the week ahead so looking forward to seeing what comes with each visit...     

 The arching stems of Soloman's Seal (Polygonatum species) are an old cottage garden favorite from the days when cottagers would have propagated plants from the surrounding countryside. It's not "showy" but it's graceful- and bumblebees like to make their way along the hanging flowers.
 Polygonatums are found in woodland settings; they all look similar but the one shown here is P. x multiflorum according to the nursery I bought the stock from originally. I think they must be picky about the conditions they like. The ones I've planted in my father's garden in Hertfordshire are doing fine as seen above but I haven't been able to establish it in London despite the garden being similarly shady.
 Soloman's Seal is related to Lily of the Valley which is another plant that will go great guns in one spot but do nothing somewhere else. In fact Lily of the Valley (Convallaria majalis) grows very happily out of the crazy paving patio nearby (see below) so maybe there's something at work here. My father stuffed a few in the cracks decades ago and off they went, coming up year after year..

   

 The power of chance. I planted the blue-flowered Columbine (Aquilegia vulgaris) in my father's back garden a few years ago and it didn't seem to thrive, getting swamped by other plants. This year it has stood tall and held its own among the frothy white flowers of Cow Parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris) which self-seeds prolifically.
 I didn't exactly plan this delightful combination, but I've noticed that if you plant things in spots that correspond to their natural habitats they tend to sort themselves out over time.

 The flowers of Lamium orvala provide a striking example of how flowers lure bees into the flower to be rewarded by nectar. In doing so they brush against pollen which is transferred from 'male' to 'female' flowers as the bee forages. Actually I'm not sure if flowers perceive themselves to be male and female as such but this is how botany describes the process!

 Speaking of bees here a few more on Geranium phaeum, Tellima grandiflora and Pulmonaria Opal...

 Do you like butter? Buttercups (Ranunculus species) are a wonderful sight the length and breadth of the land yet even these are sometimes regarded as a weed. A few moments before I took these photos a bee was buzzing from one to the next. Who would deny a bee its buttercup?
 If anyone reading this diary is contemplating weeding out buttercups: meet me by the potting shed for a rumble...

 Green Alkanet (Pentaglottis sempervirens) is one of those rogue plants that insists on being prolific despite the efforts of many gardeners to treat it as a weed. It is brimming with blue forget-me-not flowers in spring and early summer and brimming with bees. I would suggest that it is one of the plants that is sustaining bee populations in urban areas by virtue of being an abundant wild flower. 
 It can spread rapidly by self-seeding and be difficult to eradicate because it has a deep tap root but it is certainly not uncontrollable. I am happy to see its spray of blue flowers and evergreen leaves here and there in the garden. I particularly enjoy the way it takes hold in neglected parts of the urban landscape to form large patches.
 "Alkanet" is a derivation from the Arabic word for henna (and is a common name for a number of dye plants in the Borage family). It is speculated that this species may have been introduced to Britain from south-west Europe to use the roots as a source of brown-red dye. I gather Alkanna tincturia is accorded the name True Alkanet for its superior properties in that regard.    

 Put up a couple of wig-wams on the allotment using some bamboo canes my father cut down in his garden. Planted two varieties of runner bean: Enorma and Scarlet Emperor. Hope the slugs don't get them. We have spares coming on in pots just in case.
 A wig-wam full of runner beans in full flower is a great sight in summer. Apparently they were introduced in Tudor times (from the Americas) as an ornamental plant. Later people noticed that the pods and beans were tasty. 
    

 I visited a couple of Bluebell woods over the long weekend. One was Lesnes Abbey Wood, the ancient woodland that has survived despite being surrounded on all sides by south-east London (see also entries on March 16th. and 28th. concerning its Wild Daffodils and Wood Anemones). The other was Hitch Wood in Hertfordshire (shown above).
 Actually the Bluebells at Lesnes were probably several days past their peak and somewhat sparser than I anticipated, though growing in their thousands. Late April/early May is generally the time to see Bluebells in flower but it can vary by a week or two from year to year and place to place. Hitch Wood was gloriously flowery; the gentle slopes were luminous with drifts of smoky blue haze among the trees.
 These are the native Hyacinthoides non-scripta whereas most Bluebells in gardens, towns and cities are derived from the Spanish Bluebell Hyacinthoides hispanica (I wrote an entry about this distinction on May 21st. last year).

 Looking at Bluebells and photographing them prompts me to wonder: what colour are Bluebells? I have taken hundreds of photos of them in recent years and invariably they photograph as pale or shrieking shades of violet. Looking through my reference books they too contain photos of "Violetbells" or appear photoshopped to a not entirely convincing shade of blue.
 I thought it might be a facet of digital sensors but older books contain similar photos and apparently both digital and slide photography emphasize the violet spectra of Hyacinthoides.
 The colour of the nodding bells varies anyway from pale through to rich hues. In Hitch Wood the afternoon sun was playing through the trees and illuminating bands of bells with varying intensity which seemed to make them glow with different tones.
 And perception is fickle. I visited the wood with several friends (and I must admit a country pub was involved in the proceedings). Even allowing for the variations in light (and alcohol) we each seemed to have a slightly different sense of what colours we were seeing over a range of blue/mauve/violet/purple impressions.
 Recalling colour theory from art school days the perceived colour of an object is created by some wavelengths of light being absorbed and others reflected. One comment I came across on a photography forum is that Bluebells reflect particular ultraviolet frequencies not visible to humans but visible to insects which are attracted by them.
 That's one for the plant scientists but what strikes me is that plants have two fundamental drives: one is to photosynthesize (which gives life to the plant), the other is to reproduce (i.e. pollination which gives life to the species). And light is crucial to both.
 So what colour are Bluebells? I'm not entirely sure but evolution does things for a reason...   
 

 A patch of Sweet Woodruff (Galium odoratum) is steadily increasing year by year in a semi-shady spot in the garden.
 I forgot to include it in the round up of flowers in my last entry.  Apparently it has historical uses as a freshening scent (by the bunch) and also as an additive steeped in wine. Last year a German visitor to the garden immediately spotted it and referred to this being a practice in Germany. Richard Mabey's classic book 'Food for Free' states that dried Woodruff is used in both cases and contains a recipe for 'Maibowle'.
 I haven't tried this so I can only echo the words of John Gerard in his 'Herball, or General Historie of Plants' published in 1597: "It is reported to be put into wine, to make a man merry".

 Plenty of blooms in the sun and shade of the garden. The blue flowered Green Alkanet and White Comfrey cope fine with a bit of both. I've noticed that bees are drawn to them throughout the day but more so when the sun is on them and this seems to be the case with most plants.

 I put Ramsons in a damp shady spot by the house which are the conditions that suit them in the wild.

 Star of Bethlehem is a bulb of East Anglian meadows. It grows well in the lawn but the flowers only open when the sun is on them.

 Greater Stichwort is a plant of hedgerows and the edge of woodland so it can tolerate both shade and sun during the course of the day as would be the case in its natural habitat. Note the fronds of Tellima grandiflora growing up through the Stichwort in the top photo.

 T. grandiflora is a plant that hails from North American woodlands. It self seeds readily in the shady parts of the garden and mingles obligingly with the other plants.

 Water Avens is plant of open and shady riverbanks so does fine in an old tin bath which gets some sun in the afternoon! Bumblebees love them and it looks rather comical when big buzzers hang upside down off the flowers with the stalks bending under the weight of them.

 Bluebells thread through several of the borders. These ones appear to be Spanish Bluebells (Hyacinthoides hispanica) which are taller than our native Bluebell H. non-scripta which is planted elsewhere in the garden and just starting to flower.

 Geranium phaeum -sometimes called 'The Mourning Widow'- is noted for coping with full shade, even dry shade which defeats many plants.

 NB Bit of a whistle-stop tour but all of the above have entries of their own roundabout this time last year as I recall.

 Getting into the groove. Cut a path through the grass onto the allotment and planted some maincrop potatoes- Arran Victory, Sarpo Axona and Pink Firs.
 Lacking a scythe or a lawnmower I improvised the grass cutting using a cordless hedge trimmer. Worked ok albeit with a lot of bending and stooping. Used the mattock for a bit of trenching. I reckon that a mattock/adze type tool for grubbing and gouging would have been among the first tools fashioned by early humans to modify their surroundings...

 "To conceive of it with a total apprehension I must for the thousandth time approach it as something totally strange. If you would make acquaintance with the ferns you must forget your botany."

Henry David Thoreau, 1859

 The Hawthorn is the May-tree of lore and myth. It can grow as a solitary tree but was often used as a thorny component of a "stock proof" hedge used to divide fields before barbed wire and metal fencing became the norm.
 There is a single specimen growing in the back garden (above), now about six or seven feet tall. I assumed it was the Common Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) but intriguingly it is the uncommon Woodland Hawthorn (C. laevigata) judging by the leaves.  
  In the book 'Flora Britannica' Richard Mabey notes that "Today it is a shrub restricted to ancient woodlands and very old hedge-banks on clay soils". It was here (albeit smaller) when I moved in so it would be interesting to know whether someone planted this particular species or if it's there by chance.