The many wildflowers of the umbellifer family that grace our English countryside are seldom easy to tell apart (except for hemlock and hogweed). Here … I think it’s Cow Parsley though it could be an early flowering Hedge Parsley. The lack of bracts suggests the former while the lack of red stems suggests the latter. Ho-hum.
The delicate lace-like flowers are easily tossed in the wind, so I reckon it a triumph to achieve (almost) a full head in focus.
#2018picoftheweek: Out of Focus
I like how you manage show the great beauty of wild flowers that are often overlooked in favour of the garden varieties.
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I do love our British wayside flowers. I find it a challenge to take unusual shots, close-ups, to reveal the structure. And you’re right, these plants are most often ignored and overlooked in preference to the showy garden breeds.
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I love this. The out-of-focus parts really highlight the in-focus flower. Beautiful!
I also love how you’re not quite sure if it’s cow parsley or not. I often have that trouble when I take pics of wildflowers. I try looking it up and do my best to identify it. But I’m no botanist!
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Me neither; I just have a love of English wildflowers.
While I’m pretty good at identifying them, sometimes I’ve absolutely no idea. Then the camera comes into play. A quick shot, and back home, uploaded to laptop, out comes the field guide and usually I find it. But sometimes the telling features are so small, or are out of shot, and I’m left still wondering.
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I know exactly what you mean š
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So pretty… I could never name any of these…
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Long years with a field-guide in hand. But there are still hundreds I can’t put a name to.
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I sometimes wish I could… other times I’m like… that’s a pretty purple flower š
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I have torn my hair out trying to identify a plant. Worse are fungi! I’m slowly becoming more relaxed on it. After all, my name isn’t Adam.
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Hahaha… I have a friend on FB who is always identifying my plant/tree pics… not that I remember any of them…
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It’s been my passion since a young child (that and writing). I would take myself off into the local woods, across the meadows, alongside the river (more of a stream), through cornfields and wasteland and, Flower Fairy Books in hand, identify the flowers I found. In those far off, pre-conservation days I’d a flower and return home to press it. That wasn’t possible with all my finds. Crayfish and newts don’t easily press! š
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What a wonderful passion to have… mine’s cooking…
And no… no pressing of little beasties!
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Yea, well, I also collected skulls. Don’t accuse me of being a ghoul. OUr cat caught mice and shrews and things and took them into the tiny space between two garden sheds where, dry and on gravel, they defleshed. And every so often I collected them. I kept them in matchboxes. The last skull found was in a wet-woodland, covered in moss, of a squirrel. I also had a human thigh bone, complete with axe or sword wound, picked up off the beach at Dunwich, where coastal erosion had tumbled the medieval graveyard.
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That is kinda cool, truth be told….
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A botanist-zoologist in the making. And then I want to art college. Humph. But then again, had I headed to Uni it would have more likely have been to take Medieval History. Or archaeology. Oh dear, typical Gemini, I.
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Ha ha! I’m 54 and still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up…
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Who said I’d grown up? My eldest daughter sent a card a few years back that said, Now you are 5. On my 49th birthday I went clubbing with a bunch of students (my staff of the time) and danced them off the dance floor (Hands Up, Yay!)
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Haha! Yes!! That’s the best! Keeps us young…
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Indeedy. Though I’m sure I aged some when I had CFS. Hell, I felt like ninety some days. But, I’m back to the boogie and the 10-mile hikes. If I stop for more than a few days my body starts to seize.
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Oh, yea, and music and dance are two more passions. And walking. And being alive. Especially being alive. I guess when I stop being that the rest won’t matter.
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What ?
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