The herb garden at Erasmus Darwin House is a secret delight beside Lichfield Cathedral

The Herb Garden at Erasmus Darwin House, half-hidden off the Cathedral Close, is one of the secret delights of Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

For many visitors, the Herb Garden at Erasmus Darwin House is still one of the secret delights of Lichfield, half-hidden off the Cathedral Close, behind the elegant Georgian house that faces onto Beacon Street.

Erasmus Darwin House is an independent museum that was once the home of the doctor, pioneering inventor and poet Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802). His research and writings laid the grounds for the work of his grandson, the biologist Charles Darwin.

I have often visited the house, where leading Midland intellectuals and industrialists in the Lunar Society met as Darwin’s guests, and I have tried – with little success – to delve into the supposed Darwin family links with the Comberford family … the elusive missing link.

At times in the past, I stayed in the Cathedral Close, in a room within sound of the cathedral bells and looking down onto the gardens of Erasmus Darwin House. But, while I have walked through the gardens on many times over the years, until this summer I have paid little attention to the tranquil Herb Garden at the back of the house.

The garden invites visitors to discover the herbs used in medicine and cooking in Erasmus Darwin’s days (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

I returned to the garden a few times this summer, and spent a little more time there in summer sunshine one afternoon a few days ago on my way to Choral Evensong in Lichfield Cathedral.

The garden invites visitors to discover the herbs used to season cooking in Darwin’s days, to learn about the medicinal qualities of the plants he used to treat his patients – often without charge – and to uncover the inspirations for his many theories and inventions.

Erasmus Darwin moved ito the house in Lichfield with his first wife Mary (Polly) Howard (1740-1770) in 1758 and lived there until 1781. He was a medical doctor and wrote many groundbreaking books. He translated Carl Linnaeus’s Classification of Plants into English – A System of Vegetables (1783/5) and The Families of Plants (1787) – and published in poetic form his two volumes of The Botanic Garden (1789).

Darwin cultivated a large garden on open ground at the edge of Lichfield. There he had space for an elaborate design with a variety of trees and plants as well as water features.

Doctors in the 18th century largely followed so-called ‘scientific’ medicine, often abandoning the simple herbal remedies of previous generations. However, apothecaries continued to offer a wide range of herbal remedied, powders, pills and ointments, using age-old plants.

Erasmus Darwin moved to the house in Lichfield with his first wife Mary (Polly) Howard in 1758 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

The Museum and Herb Garden at Darwin House were developed in 1999 from what was then the Cathedral organist’s house in a £1.25 million project. Interesting features today include a relief sculpture of Erasmus Darwin and incised texts on paving slabs leading through the garden that were created by the sculptor Denis Parsons (1934-2012). He served a seven-year apprenticeship with Robert Bridgeman and Sons, Lichfield, and was referred to as ‘one of the country’s most expert architectural sculptors’.

The texts on paving slabs in the garden celebrate Darwin as doctor … scientist … inventor … evolutionist … poet …

The garden has of a number of linked but distinct areas.

The culinary garden, known as ‘Mrs Darwin’s Culinary Garden’, is beyond the entrance door and reflects the extensive use of herbs and spices in Georgian cooking, along with other domestic uses such as cleaning, scenting, dyeing, disinfecting and deterring unwelcome insects and animals.

In both beds there are selections of herbs for the kitchen that were used to enhance the flavour of food including thyme, mint, parsley, marjoram, sage, lovage and chives. There are also herbs for other domestic use – lavender and lemon verbena for potpourri and chamomile and lemon balm for herbal teas. Sweet Cecily took the acidity out of stewed fruits and elecampane was useful for making cough sweets.

The texts on the paving slabs by Denis Parsons celebrate Erasmus Darwin as doctor … scientist … inventor … evolutionist … poet … (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

The garden has then been further divided into four beds:

The Apothecary’s Garden, Bed 1 along the right hand side, includes traditional herbs that would have been supplied by 18th century apothecaries, who were the equivalent of High Street chemists today. Without the apothecary’s presence in every town, most people would not have had access to the advice or remedies they needed.

The apothecaries provided over-the-counter remedies for people seeking traditional products made from long-established herbal recipes. But they also made up doctors’ prescriptions that included more exotic ingredients as well as ‘chemical’ substances. Well-known herbs in this part of the garden include Marigold, Borage and St John’s Wort, as well as White Horehound, Soapwort, Bistort and Golden Rod.

Dr Darwin’s Medicine Chest is Bed 2 up the steps, and includes plants directly referenced in Darwin’s writings and reflecting the variety of plants in use at that time by a professional physician. It is a reminder that Darwin recommended opium – often in alarming quantities – mercury and ‘Peruvian Bark’, which contained quinine, for most of his patients alongside strong purging medicines and blood-letting.

This part of the garden includes some of the plants mentioned in his books, letters and Materia Medica or medicine list: Poppies for opium, Foxgloves for heart conditions, Pennyroyal for calming stomachs, Valerian for sleep, Chamomile and White Bryony as emetics and Rhubarb, a great favourite for ‘cleansing’. He also includes: Wormwood, Marjoram, Cardus Benedictus (Holy Thistle), Tansy, Parsley, Mint, Elecampane, Marsh Mallow, Thorn Apple and Squill.

The Dyer’s Garden, Bed 3 above the wall opposite, includes examples of plants that could have been used by professional dyers in Lichfield to produce the natural colours needed for fabrics.

Large-scale synthetic dyes were not yet developed in Darwin’s lifetime and the plants here are examples of those then used by professional dyers, including Alkanet, Tansy, Dyer’s Chamomile, Ladies’ Bedstraw, Madder and Woad.

The Apothecary’s Garden includes traditional herbs supplied by apothecaries, the 18th century equivalent of High Street chemists today (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

The Scented Garden, Bed 4 further along on the left, has been developed to bring fragrance and colour to the house and the garden. Roses, Lavender, Rosemary, Chamomile, Pinks and Sweet Cecily are favourite traditional plants that combine in summer to bring fragrance and colour to the house and garden.

All the plants are labelled and a leaflet about the garden is available for visitors. Each bed also has a plant list and further historical information. Sometimes, a selection of plants are available to buy.

Volunteers manage the garden and carry out all the work, including planting, maintenance and the development of future plans. They are usually in the garden on Thursday afternoons and are happy to talk to visitors about the garden.

There is no charge to visit the garden but donations towards its upkeep are welcome.

For further information see: www.erasmusdarwinhouse.org

The Museum and Herb Garden at Erasmus Darwin House were developed in 1999 from what was then the Cathedral organist’s house (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

‘If you go down to the woods today You’re sure of a big surprise’

The carpets of bluebells are an indication that Linford Wood is an ancient woodland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Patrick Comerford

If you go down to the woods today
You’re sure of a big surprise
If you go down to the woods today
You’d better go in disguise.
For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain,
Because today’s the day
The Teddy Bears have their picnic.

Picnic time for Teddy Bears
The little Teddy Bears
Are having a lovely time today
Watch them, catch them unawares
And see them picnic on their holiday.
See them gaily gad about
They love to play and shout;
They never have any cares;
At six o’clock their Mummies and Daddies,
Will take them home to bed,
Because they’re tired little Teddy Bears.

If you go down to the woods today
You’d better not go alone
It’s lovely down in the woods today
But safer to stay at home.
For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain,
Because today’s the day
The Teddy Bears have their picnic.

This is bluebell time, and one recent afternoon we went to Linford Wood to see the carpet of bluebells … and we were also in for a surprise along the Arts Trail when we came across sculptures, including the Teddy Bear.

Linford Wood is Milton Keynes’ very own 100 acre wood, criss-crossed with paths and trails that offer a window on its rich wildlife. There the carpets of bluebells are an indication that this is an ancient woodland, and the wood is a surviving fragment of the wildwood that covered most of Britain after the last Ice Age.

As villages grew up in the area, the wood became a vital source of raw materials for building and heating homes and feeding livestock. By the Middle Ages, the wood was part of the estate owned by the Lords of Linford Manor.

World War I brought more change as most of Linford’s ancient trees were felled for the war effort. The woodland fell into disrepair until modern times, when active management has returned it to life. A vigorous planting and woodland management programme has seen native species such as oak, ash, field maple, hawthorn, blackthorn, hazel and dogwood thrive again, providing habitats for a wide range of small mammals, birds and insect life.

Modern woodland management owes much to the use of coppicing in the past. Some trees are cut back hard to encourage new shoots, which in their time were used as poles and for the wattle and daub houses. Today, coppicing keeps growth healthy and allows light into the forest floor where plants can thrive.

A Teddy Bear among the wood carvings and tree stumps along the Art Trail in Linford Wood (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Waymarker posts at the entrances and path junctions guide visitors around Linford Wood. The North Wood walk is marked in blue, is around 1.5 km long and takes about 25 minutes at a leisurely pace. The South Wood walk is marked in yellow, is about 1.2 km long and takes about 20 minutes. Both routes are on hard and mainly level surfaces, with short diversions along the Orchid and Art trails.

As we explored Linford Wood in the late afternoon, we looked out for the series of intriguing wood carvings along the Art Trail, nestling beneath the trees and the shrubs. As well as woodland creatures and spirits, some well-known storybook characters emerge from tree stumps alongside the paths.

Along the Orchid Trail, early-purple orchid, greater butterfly orchid, herb paris and broad leaved helleborine are some of the flowers to look out for in spring and early summer.

Linford Wood is owned and managed by the Parks Trust, a self-financing charity dedicated to caring for over 4,500 acres of parks and landscapes in Milton Keynes. It provides a network of green spaces across the city, works with schools and volunteers and organises over 200 events each year that make Milton Keynes a vibrant and colourful place to live, work and visit.

After our walk in Linford Wood, instead of looking for the Teddy Bears’ picnic, we walked into Milton Keynes and had dinner in Cosy Club in Silbury Arcade, promising to return again to explore the trees, the walks and trails, the flowers and the sculptures.

Download a copy of the trails at the website: www.theparkstrust.com

This is bluebell time in Linford Wood (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

The Patios of Córdoba offer a unique insight into life in Andalucía

The ‘Patios of Córdoba’ are an escape from the hot sun of Andalucía (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

I arrived in Córdoba from Malaga late yesterday afternoon, and I am staying in the Maciá Alfaros Hotel, set in a traditional Andalucían-style building. The Roman Temple, the Archaeological Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts are just 500 metres from the hotel, the Alcázar castle is less than 1 km, and it is 15 minutes’ walk to Córdoba’s mosque and cathedral, and the Jewish Quarter.

As the evening began to cool down yesterday [5 June 2019], I joined a guided walking tour of the ‘Patios of Córdoba’ in courtyards in the traditional neighbourhood of San Basilio.

These patios and courtyards offer shade from the hot sun of Andalucía, and some have features dating back to Roman times.

We heard about the tradition of decorating the patios with an abundance of flowers, mosaics and other garden features. We were just a few weeks too late for annual mid-May contest known as the ‘Battle of the Flowers,’ when the private courtyards are opened to the public as part of the spring celebrations.

Every spring, Córdoba bursts into bloom with special festivities for the month of May. Starting with a parade known as the ‘Battle of the Flowers,’ the city officially launches its spring celebrations with the May Crosses festival, usually in the first week of May, followed by the Patio Contests that can easily continue well past the middle of the month.

This annual patio contest, which is over a century old, is sponsored by Córdoba City Hall and dates back to 1918.

Some of the patios include features that date back to Roman times in Córdoba (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Because of the hot, dry climate, homes in Córdoba were built with a central patio, even back in the days of the Romans. This tradition continued with the Moors and persists in many homes to this day.

Filling the central patio with plants and water features is a way to keep these homes cool. But, thanks to human creativity and ingenuity, patio decoration ended up taking on a life all of its own. At some point, someone realised that these hidden treasures were too good to be kept hidden behind heavy doors and iron grates. So, the doors open once a year, and everyone is invited in to see the wonders of the patios of Córdoba.

These patios not only offer a visual feast of colourful flowers, stone mosaics and ceramic decorations, but they also offer experiences of the classic scents of Córdoba: jasmine and orange blossom, mixed with a myriad of scents from the flowers and plants that bring the city alive.

A range of patios is open to public viewing each year. The patios include private, single-family homes opening their doors to show the courtyards around which their old-style homes centre. There are larger, low-built, apartment-style buildings that have courtyards where often many gardeners work together throughout the year to cultivate their shared meeting areas.

Even the Viana Palace, a 14th century palace, offers an opportunity to see 12 different patios. Convents, religious buildings and university faculties join in the late spring celebration, and with the best names in flamenco adding sound to the sights, smells, textures and tastes, Córdoba becomes a feast for all five senses in the month of May.

Fifty or so patios that are part of the competition are open to the public. These patios are normally open from 11 am to 2 pm and from 6 pm to 10 pm most days at this time of the year, and some stay open later on Fridays and Saturdays.

An invitation to visit a patio in Córdoba is often an invitation into a family home (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The joys of trees and flowers in full bloom in Rethymnon at Easter

A lemon tree in full fruit in Kastrinogiannaki Street in Rethymnon (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

This is one of the earliest times of the year I have been in Rethymnon. I have been coming here since the 1980s, and have been here as late as October. And while I have been in Greece throughout the year, and in other parts of Greece for Easter, including Mount Athos and Thessaloniki, I think this is my first time in Crete in April.

One of the advantages of being here at a different time of the year, is seeing new growth and fresh growth in the flowers and the trees in the fields, in the gardens and by the roadside.

Lemon trees and orange trees are in full fruit here this year, and are being sold in abundance. But I am also noticing the wild flowers and garden flowers on my walks through the streets or down to the beach.

A small vineyard between Platanias and Pavlos Beach (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

A little vineyard I have come to admire behind the streets of Platanias, on the way down to Pavlos Beach, is being well tended to, but a field beside it is now covered in wild flowers of different colours.

An orange tree in full fruit in a tiny square off Vitséntzou Kornárou Street in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

As I was growing up, I never learned the names of trees, flowers or plants, so I am totally at a loss to describe them or name them. But here are some of the flowers I have been admiring during my walks in recent days during this Easter season:

Photographs: Patrick Comerford, Rethymnon, 2019

The ‘Lent Lily’ is blooming by the roads between Christmas and Easter

Daffodils blooming on Sunday morning on the road east of Castletown Church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019; click on image for full-screen view)

Patrick Comerford

The daffodils are early this year. is a bright, sunny flower. They are growing along the sides of the road on the ditches and the banks, and already early daffodils are on sale in the supermarkets in this part of West Limerick.

It is all about three or four weeks too early, for daffodils normally do not arrive in the supermarkets until the first week in February. It is only a few years since I enjoyed heading out to see fields of fresh daffodils near Gormanston and Julianstown in Co Meath in late March or even early April.

Daffodils like to flower before the leaves grow on the trees, and this way they can get plenty of sunlight, but this is very early. They begin to flower in early spring, and usually grow in groups.

On Sunday morning [13 January 2019], it seemed the banks lining the road from Castletown Church east to Pallaskenry were alive with riots of daffodils on the north side of the road, taking advantage of the little sunshine that comes with the lengthening of days and the promise of winter turning to spring.

They grow in most places – along roadsides, in hedgerows, meadows and waste ground – and there are at least 50 different species of daffodil. From about the 16th century, they have also been known as ‘daffadown dilly’ or ‘daffydowndilly.’ But the daffodil has also been as the ‘Lent lily.’

In western countries the daffodil is also associated with spring festivals such as Lent and Easter. In Germany, the wild narcissus is known as the Osterglocke or ‘Easter bell.’ In England, the daffodil is sometimes referred to as the Lenten lily.

Perhaps because of its association with Lent, the daffodil became the national flower of Wales, associated with Saint David’s Day (1 March). Yet it is too early to start thinking of Lent, which arrives quite late this year.

I was surprised to learn yesterday that the daffodil is a form of narcissus. In Greek mythology, Narcissus (Νάρκισσος, Nárkissos) was a hunter from Thespiae known for his beauty. He loved everything beautiful, but he was so proud that he disdained all who loved him, causing some to end their lives by suicide to prove their unrelenting devotion to his striking beauty.

The word narcissus has come to be used for the daffodil, but is the flower named after the myth, or the myth after the flower? Or if there is any true connection at all? Although there is no clear evidence that the flower's name derives directly from the Greek myth, this link between the flower and the myth became firmly part of western culture.

The daffodil is prized as an ornamental flower, but some people consider narcissi unlucky, because they hang their heads implying misfortune. White narcissi are especially associated with death, and have been called grave flowers. In ancient Greece, narcissi were planted near tombs, and Robert Herrick describes them as portents of death, an association that also appears in the myth of Persephone and the underworld.

The daffodil or narcissus is the most loved of all Irish and English plants, and appears frequently in English literature. No flower has received more poetic description in English except the rose and the lily, with poems by writers from John Gower, Shakespeare, Milton, Wordsworth, Shelley and Keats.

Frequently the poems deal with self-love because of the association of the daffodil with Narcissus, and the flower that sprang from the youth’s death. Spenser announces the coming of the ‘Daffodil in Aprill’ in his Shepheardes Calender (1579).

Shakespeare refers to daffodils twice in The Winter’s Tale and in The Two Noble Kinsmen. In a number of poems, Robert Herrick associates the daffodil with death. Keats refers to daffodils as bringing ‘joy for ever.’

William Wordsworth’s poem I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (1804) provides many people with their main literary image of the flower. But Wordsworth refers to the daffodil in many.

AE Housman is referring to the daffodil when he writes about ‘The Lent Lily’ in A Shropshire Lad, describing the traditional Easter death of the daffodil.

Narcissi first started to appear in western art in the late middle ages, in panel paintings, particularly those depicting crucifixion, symbolising not only death but also hope in the resurrection, because they are perennial and bloom at Easter.

So perhaps there is a link in these daffodils appearing on the roadside near Castletown Church that helps to prepare the link between Epiphany and Good Friday, between Christmas and Easter, between birth and death, between the Incarnation and the Resurrection.

The skies after sunset at the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick, last night (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Joining in wisteria hysteria in Cambridge in the courts of Sidney Sussex College

Fading wisteria and the rule of bicycles at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018; click on images for full-screen views)

Patrick Comerford

When the students leave Cambridge at the end of the academic year, the tourists and the participants at summer schools take over the streets and the college rooms. But for these few weeks at the end of June and the beginning of July, Cambridge remains the city of wisteria and bicycles.

Cambridge is the city of bicycles. Although term has come to end, bicycles still have priority over cars and pedestrians on the streets, and they are still chained in vast numbers to the rails of colleges, chapels and churches, where they join the many posters advertising music, recitals, concerts, theatre, drama and readings.

But Cambridge is equally the city of wisteria. Although the best time for appreciating wisteria in Cambridge is usually in May, it still survives in many places throughout the city into July.

On my way to and from USPG conferences in High Leigh, I have tried to take a little time to visit interesting towns and places within an easy distance of Stansted Airport and Hoddesdon. In past years, these have included Saffron Walden, Bishop’s Stortford, Newport, the neighbouring towns of Hoddesdon and Broxbourne, Dobbs Weir and Roydon, and, of course Cambridge. As I am not attending the IOCS summer school in Sidney Sussex College later this summer, I decided to spend a little time in Cambridge this week, and, of course, I succumbed to wisteria hysteria in Cambridge during my all-too-short visit this week.

Wisteria covers college walls, pretty cottages, terraced houses, and even appears on student accommodation throughout Cambridge. For outsiders, it creeps along the walls of Chapel Court in Sidney Sussex College, its vines dripping over onto Sidney Street. But for insiders, it can still be seen in bright foliage throughout Chapel Court, Hall Court and Cloister Court.

But then, of course, I have a particular fondness for the wisteria in Sidney Sussex.

The wisteria is already fading in Hall Court in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Wisteria is a genus of flowering plants in the legume family, Fabaceae (Leguminosae), that includes ten species of woody climbing vines that are native to China, Korea and Japan.

So where did wisteria get its name?

The English botanist Thomas Nuttall (1786-1859) said he named Wisteria in honour of the American physician and anatomist, Dr Caspar Wistar (1761-1818). Caspar Wistar was born in Philadelphia, the son of Richard Wistar (1727-1781) and Sarah Wyatt (1733-1771), and the grandson of Caspar Wistar (1696-1752), a German immigrant Quaker and glassmaker.

Caspar Wistar was educated at the Quaker school in Philadelphia, and studied medicine at the University of Pennsylvania and the University of Edinburgh. He returned to Philadelphia, where he became s professor of chemistry, professor of anatomy, midwifery, and surgery and later professor of anatomy. He was an early promoter of vaccination, campaigned for the abolition of slavery and was a friend of Thomas Jefferson.

Some writers have preferred spelling the plant’s common name as ‘wistaria’, and Fowler’s Dictionary continues to use the spelling ‘wistaria.’

The Porter’s Lodge in Sidney Sussex College this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

This spelling is also used by TS Eliot in ‘Sweeney among the Nightingales’ (1918/1919):

Therefore the man with heavy eyes
Declines the gambit, shows fatigue,

Leaves the room and reappears
Outside the window, leaning in,
Branches of wistaria
Circumscribe a golden grin;

The host with someone indistinct
Converses at the door apart,
The nightingales are singing near
The Convent of the Sacred Heart

By now, the wisteria in Sidney Sussex has passed its best this year, yet there are still many buds on the vines. But I regret that on my way to and from the USPG conference in High Leigh I still did not have a little more time to spend in the sunshine in Cambridge this week.

Bicycles and posters compete with each other on railings in Cambridge this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Fading summer sunshine and fading sunflowers in a regency garden

Afternoon sunshine in the Regency Gardens in Marlay Park, Rathfarnham, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

Patrick Comerford

It was such a beautiful, sunny afternoon, that it felt like summer was making a brave effort to return despite the autumn winds and rains that have been blowing through every other day in the past week.

It was an opportunity not to be missed.

After a busy working day, two of us decided to leave work a little early, and after mid-afternoon double espressos in the Wicklow Way Café we went for long walks in the afternoon sunshine in Marlay Park.

In the Regency Gardens in Marlay Park this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

We walked through wooded glades, past ‘Goldilocks Cottage,’ across the open parkland, and by the old La Touche family house, before ending up eventually in the Regency Gardens.

In the walled courtyard behind the café there, a collection of white and multi-coloured peahens and peacocks were playfully distracting and entertaining the coffee-drinkers.

Peacocks providing afternoon distraction in the Regency Gardens in Marlay Park (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

In the walled Regency Gardens, the sunflowers were at varying stages: in full bloom, beginning to fed, and turning to seed. The bees were enjoying them, and thought you might like these photographs of them too.

Summer turns to autumn as the buddleia begins to fade

Fading buddleia in Churchtown this week … reminders of a priest who died over 300 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

Patrick Comerford

There are two sayings in Ireland that mark the changes in the seasons. Some time around the end of March or the beginning of April, people begin to say, ‘Sure, there’s a grand stretch in the evenings.’ And then, around this time of the year, they begin to say, ‘You’d notice the evenings begin to close in, wouldn’t you?’

If you had any doubts that summer was trying to linger a little longer this week, then it came to an end today with the heavy rains and the high waves along the seafront in Bray, Co Wicklow, when I tried to go for a walk along the shore at the end of a long working week.

The rain and the Dublin bus strike colluded to make the end-of-week traffic between Dublin and Bray exceptionally heavy this afternoon, and it took a full hour and a half to travel at snail’s pace between Churchtown and Bray this afternoon. I took pity on those poor people who were trying to make it even further to Co Wexford for what they may have hoped was going to be the last weekend of the summer season by the sea.

I had hoped to use this week, before academic demands return with a demanding impact, to keep up my walking distances. The counter on my phone seems to act as some sort of incentive, but never quite produced the results I expected.

Why is it that I seem to manage to walk greater distances each day when I am in England than when I am in Ireland? Perhaps that is the secret cultural divide between the two countries.

My walking averages this week are low, at about 3.5 km a day, despite walking back to work after lunch each day, and having a long walk by the River Dodder on the way home on Monday, when my daily total came to almost 7.5 km.

On the other hand, when I was in Cambridge last week, I was managing to reach 13 and even 16 km a day as I went for lengthy walks by the river and the boathouses, and had brisk early morning walks each day, as well as some wandering walks in the Essex countryside during the day I spent visiting Saint John’s Monastery in Tolleshunt Knights.

Lingering images of summer on the lawns this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

One of the signs of the passing of summer is the fading of the flowers, including the roses on the lawns at CITI and the buddleia or butterfly bushes that grow wildly by the roadside.

Only recently did I realise the buddleia takes its name from an Anglican priest. The Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus named it in honour of the Revd Adam Buddle (1662-1715), an English botanist and priest, at the suggestion of Dr William Houstoun, who sent the first plants to England from the Caribbean about 15 years after Buddle’s death over 300 years ago.

Adam Buddle was born the son of a prosperous hemp-dresser in Deeping Saint James, a small village near Peterborough, and was educated at Saint Catharine’s College, Cambridge (BA, 1681, MA, 1685).

His life between graduation and ordination remains obscure. During that time, he lived near Hadleigh, Suffolk, where he became an authority on bryophytes. He was one of the first Englishmen to study mosses and liverworts as bryology began to be taken seriously in England during the late 17th century.

He was a Fellow of Saint Catharine’s College, Cambridge, until 1691, but like many others was then ejected after refusing to pledge his oath to the new king, William III.

He married Elizabeth Eveare in 1695, and they had two children.

By 1702, Buddle had sworn allegiance to King William, and he was in Ely Cathedral. In 1703 he became rector of North Fambridge, near Maldon in Essex, and 16 miles south of Tolleshunt Knights. He compiled a new English Flora in 1708, but this was never published.

He also accepted the post of Reader (or vicar) at the Chapel of Gray’s Inn, London. He died there and was buried at Saint Andrew’s Church Holborn, on 15 April 1715. His widow Elizabeth survived him until at least 1724.

Buddle’s memory has faded too, but I still thought of him this week as I looked at the buddleia in Churchtown this week. I knew summer was passing, and this afternoon’s rains and high waves in Bray late this afternoon seemed to confirm this.

The evenings begin to close in by the waves in Bray this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

Creating ‘an edible urban Eden’ in Bray

Sunflowers in the sunshine in Albert Walk, Bray, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

Patrick Comerford

I was back in Bray again this afternoon after a Sunday morning in Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, and a brief visit to Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Two of us went to Bray for lunch in Carpe Diem on Albert Avenue, and I wanted to do some architectural photography in Quinsborough Road before going for a short walk along the seashore.

Albert Walk is a narrow passage that leads from Albert Avenue to the Railway Station, to the site of the former Imperial Hotel and onto Quinsborough Road.

One of the true pleasures of this narrow sidestreet is Caffe Letterario Gatta Nera, the delightful Sicilian café where I had lunch on Friday afternoon.

Edible Bray is creating a free food trail in Albert Walk and throughout Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

But this afternoon, as I strolled along Albert Walk, which dates from the 1880s, I saw how Edible Bray is creating a free food trail around Bray with orchards and edible plants, free for all.

Edible Bray is creating a trail of public planting around the town of Bray, including fruit, herbs, vegetables and flowers to feed the body, mind and soul, as well as birds and bees.

Edible Bray is an initiative of Common Ground Bray, a co-operative, community based project.

The dream is to create an ‘edible urban Eden’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)

The dream is to create a free food trail around Bray with apple orchards and fruit bushes, kale, sunflowers and edible flowers in the most unlikely places, as well as cherry tomatoes and delicious peas, and all free for the picking too.

The sunflowers, calendula and nasturtiums planted around Bray are now making a lot of bees very happy ... and quite a few people too.

Volunteers meet up regularly in Albert Walk to do the necessary weeding and watering, and to spruce up the beds. People are invited to bring along any spare edible plants they have, including herbs, flowers and vegetables.

The council is unveiling a plaque on Albert Walk on Wednesday evening (17 August 2016), which is public acknowledgement of a worthy, colourful and imaginative local initiative.

The initiative is keeping the birds and bees happy … and many people too (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)