THE ICECREAM MAN

Rum and raisin, vanilla, butter-scotch, walnut, peach:
You would rhyme off the flavours. That was before
They murdered the ice-cream man on the Lisburn Road
And you bought carnations to lay outside his shop.
I named for you all the wild flowers of the Burren
I had seen in one day: thyme, valerian, loosestrife,
Meadowsweet, tway blade, crowfoot, ling, angelica,
Herb robert, marjoram, cow parsley, sundew, vetch,
Mountain avens, wood sage, ragged robin, stitchwort,
Yarrow, lady’s bedstraw, bindweed, bog pimpernel.

+ Michael Longley

(Top) The small boreen back in late April. (Bottom) Now in July the same road is darkened and almost impassable with long grasses through the centre of the road and trees touching overhead. The hedgerows are now just passing their peak and exploding with growth.

A few months have now passed since we last wrote about wildflower hunting along this little country boreen close to our home.

Back in April we wrote about the idea and history of the ‘long acre’ and the rich biodiversity to be found in these common, but often overlooked little trackways. We marveled at the arrival of Spring primroses, coltsfoot, cowslips, marsh marigolds, and the beauty of blossoming whitethorn. (You can refresh your memory and read all about “Spring flowers on the Long Acre” here.)

This week, as promised, we revisit the very same little road. And oh my - a lot has changed.

We find darkened densely growing hedgerows, jam-packed with billowing climbing flowers.

The heavy scent of elderflower in June is now replaced by meadowsweet and honeysuckle. Red and white clover, knapweed, and ox-eye daisies grow amongst the grasses. Once rare wild orchids seem to be growing more abundantly with each passing year. Thistles and loosestrife stand tall and proud, unbeaten yet by heavy wind or rain. Tufted vetch appears to win this great summer hedgerow competition - it climbs over all competitors and glows with an almost iridescent purple sheen.

There is not much else to say or to do. I stop, I crouch down, and I look closer. I find myself reciting their “human names” back to them… Loosestrife, ragwort, hawkbit, herb robert, meadowsweet, ragged robin… awkwardly the only way I know how to acknowledge their presence. Their unsung beauty is hiding in plain sight, right there for all those willing to seek it out.