The Library of Obscure Wonders

May is here. The weather is pleasant, so I decide to go out in search of a hawthorn tree. This is also known as the ‘May tree’, because it blossoms at the start of the month. I walk down to the canal near my home and search along the side of a towpath that is half maintained and half wilderness.

It is a nice walk, not too many cycles or joggers today, as it is still a little overcast. I stop to watch a swan majestically make its way across the water and between the canal boats. When I was younger, I used to dream of owning a canal boat. I even brought books on how to renovate and do them up. One of the reasons that I wanted a canal boat is that I’m actually allowed to drive one of those; I’m not allowed to drive a car because of the epilepsy. I thought at the time that this was a terrible hardship. An outlook which, indeed, the modern world would still encourage. 

Nowadays, though, I think it simply means that I’m privileged to walk – a lot. I get to see the trees and the plants and the rivers of the city, for London is officially a forest (According to a UN definition, it boasts a high enough percentage of trees to be a forest: https://www.timeout.com/london/things-to-do/did-you-know-that-london-is-the-worlds-largest-urban-forest)! I don’t zoom about in a car or on a bike all the time, which means I get to enjoy the city and appreciate its hidden wonders. The hawthorn tree is definitely one of these.

Back to my walk, and I come across several hawthorn bushes, all in full blossom, pale white with a touch of pink in the centre. A tiny spider crawls between the petals and leaves, its delicate threads of webbing almost invisible to the human eye. This reminds me of how useful hawthorn is to wildlife, from bugs to birds to mammals. Small birds feast off its berries and nest in its protective thorny branches. There is even a ‘hawthorn moth’ named after this tree.

According to an ancient myth, the hawthorn originally sprang from lightning and was associated with Hymen, the Greek god of marriage. It was a symbol of love, romance, fresh starts and fertility. A member of the rose family, it can grow in all sorts of places and can take very harsh conditions indeed, such as clifftops, scrublands and barren pathways. It was once seen as sacred and a protector of virgins, brides and pregnant women. In Turkey, a branch of hawthorn expressed the wish of a lover to receive a kiss. 

To read more visit https://jofisherroberts.substack.com/p/hawthorn

Twisting through the City

I was teaching my students how to paint ivy leaves yesterday. Ivy is a difficult plant to paint, with its dark, grey-green colour and white veins. I like how it often has a purple or crimson-ish stem which, if you look carefully, seems to twist around like fine snakes weaving in and out of each other.

Once apon a time I used to live in a basement flat with a garden, at the end of which was the railway track carrying the Piccadilly and District Line tube trains into London. There was an ugly concrete wall separating my garden from the long drop down to the track on the other side. A great mass of ivy grew up and over this wall in a fairytale fashion. I tried to encourage this ivy, but one day the railway workmen cut it down and threw it over to my side of the wall. 

Upon landing, the ivy curled over itself and formed a long tube. My dog Monty (a small terrier) loved investigating this tube and rummaging through it. Over time, the ‘ivy parcels’ continued to arrive and, eventually, my back garden became a maze of tunnels. I was impressed at how the ivy managed to stay alive, and indeed thrive, albeit in this tubular form.

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