Every walk reveals new glimmers of spring. This year the trees are taking their time, but other flora are eager to burst into view. The primroses have been prolific, cow parsley is already blooming in sheltered parts of our garden, and hawthorn arrived last month, well before its common name ‘May blossom’ dictates. Yesterday, I noticed cowslips scattered across the footpath, their bugle-shaped flower casings drooping prettily against a late frost. They’re about a week earlier than last year, according to my records, but I’m happy to see them and their pale, whipped-egg-yoke yellows.
These tender little things also remind me how brilliantly vulgar botanical language can be. ‘Cowslip’ is a polite version of the Middle English ‘cowslyppe,‘ referring to the ‘paste’ or dung from which it often grows. Cowslop, if you like. And they’re not alone. This is a great time for sniggering at vegetation. The dandelions suddenly spreading their brighter yellow along the verges are also known as ‘pissabeds’ (possibly due to their diuretic properties) and one of my favourite childhood weeds, good for secreting on the unsuspecting backs of parents and siblings and currently rampaging through my borders, is often called ‘sticky willy’.
The crude and comical naming of plant life is a nice antidote to the sometimes overly-saccharin flavour of April. Heading into Easter weekend, I’ll be indulging in pure, sweet things but also celebrating the earthier side of nature. And looking forward to autumn, when I can titter at ‘naked-lady’ lilies and the medlar’s ‘open arse’ fruits.
