I’ve just spent three days trying to photograph buttercups;
No, you’re right. I can’t do it justice. I'd need to be an impressionist painter to capture what it feels like to be walking through buttercups.
This year there has been an explosion of bright yellow buttercups, growing on the fields that were flooded only two months ago.
We always had a few in the corners but this year it has been amazing. A riot of colour.
Probably the floods brought up old seeds buried deep down in the earth. Maybe the waters washed down nutrients, but who knows?
Anyway, these aren’t your everyday buttercups. They aren’t hold under your chin and see if you like butter, buttercups. They are giant, knee high, X-Men buttercups.
Great big rampant, in-your-face buttercups.
Mutant Ninja Buttercups.
Still can’t capture it;
Being surrounded by them. Engulfed by them.
It isn’t just me either. I’ve been watching drunken bees bobbeling about in them.
Excited dogs romping through them.
I’ve walked through them. Lain down amongst them. Retraced my winding footsteps through them.
And it isn’t just me – there are people sunbathing in them, hidden by the height of the spring hay.
So far I haven’t seen one but there are also Muntjac deer – tiny little no native deer escaped from captivity and gone feral throughout the Thames Valley. They have survived because they are so very timid – but at this time of year when the grass is high, they can wander about hidden.
Who knows, I may be lucky and see one this year.
Blogger is being a pain today - won't let me enlarge a picture. So click on one and get the slideshow.
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