Sweet chamomile, good times never seemed so good

Its dainty white flowers add sunshine to the garden and countryside; it will withstand drought and create a sweet-scented lawn that never needs mowing. What's not to love about chamomile

- Deborah Nicholls-Lee

WITH its pristine white petals grouped around a yolky heart, chamomile adds cheer to our verges, cliffs and meadows in summer and releases a fruity fragrance when trodden underfoot. It's this sweet scent that explains its name, taken from the Greek word chamaimēlon, meaning earth apple.

Beneath the dainty bonnet is a rather unkempt plant: a scrawny member of the daisy family with ragged leaves that goes from tiny tot to teenager in the blink of an eye, blossoming after only 10 weeks. Yet, with blooms that last all summer, chamomile (Chamaemelum nobile) brings a little sunshine to terrace containers or formal borders and also mixes in well with wildflowers in uncultivated areas of the garden. The German variety is taller and more aromatic than the English (often called Roman) type, but both are said to be a boon to gardeners, not least because pests are indifferent to them. The longstanding belief that planting chamomile beside ailing crops helps to revive them has earned it the epithet 'the plant's physician'.

This modest little flower can cure humans, too, and boasts a rich medicinal history. It's thought that, as early as 1500BC, the Egyptians were making a balm from its petals to treat dry skin. The Greeks, for their part, found it a helpful diuretic and digestive aid. The flowers and the roots were made into a tonic to combat fever, inflammation and ulcers and a chamomile salve was applied to soothe burns and cuts.