WHEN does spring send out its advance party, advising us the days will soon be warmer and brighter again? Is it when the mistle thrush in the bare poplars casts his tuneful phrases across woodland and water, as we break into the New Year? Or when the scillas and daffodils push tentatively out of the earth?
For Susanna Bott, chatelaine of Benington Lordship, the promise of spring arrives with the downy clouds of February snowdrops that cover the ground around the remains of a Norman castle and its next-door church, close to her early-18th-century home.
‘On a sunny day in February, the scent of honey wafting from the massed wild snowdrops and the sight of the big, sleepy bumble- bees that land on them, weighing the flowers down, is a key moment. Snowdrops are so important for pollinators, at a time of year when there is little else available,’ says Mrs Bott. ‘But, on a warm day, the honey smell from the snowdrops reminds me of the pleasure and simplicity of Nature, as well as the change of seasons; it makes me feel grounded.’
The British Isles are blessed with many areas of naturalised snowdrops: they erupt to illuminate late winter in parks and gardens, alongside rivers and streams and carpeting deciduous woodlands. Many such places are on flat ground, creating pleasing white carpets in February, often with a path snaking through, the better to wander among the demurely nodding blooms. However, what marks out the snowdrop displays at Benington Lordship is the unique setting, enhanced by various human interventions across many centuries.
Denne historien er fra January 11, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent ? Logg på
Denne historien er fra January 11, 2023-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
