In my hands

October is finally here; my favourite month. Not only was I born in October (which entitles me to love it even more) it also radiates a dazzling spectrum of colours, and possesses a palpable sense of 'hygge'. Furthermore, it marks the end of the foraging season for me. The next few weeks will be a busy time stocking up.

Wherever I go I'm always scanning my surroundings for that one exquisite find. Mother Nature is my supply closet, and I usually end each day with a handful of curiosities from her seasonal collection. Here's a few of those treasures; from blackberries, acer seeds, hawthorn berries to the first fallen autumn leaves. 

The great mushroom hunt

These beautiful autumnal days are my favourite of the year. There's a certain air of calm, solitude and reflection in the changing of the temperature, light and natural surroundings. Although this September has been a slightly more wet one than we're use to, it does have its benefits, and it results in a copious collection of mushrooms springing up from the forest floor.

I usually spend a few mornings a week trekking through the woodlands in search of my charming fungi friends. They're often found hidden amongst long grasses, and concealed under an emerald blanket of woodland sorrel with dew drops sparkling like fallen diamonds. It really is a sight to behold, and makes the hours in the bone tingling cold a lot more bearable. I've been lucky enough to discover banded mottlegill, chanterelle, fairy ink caps and nitrous bonnet. A pretty selection of tiny treasures that are ready to be made into intriguing eco resin jewels.

Forest Foraging

Today marked a much needed supply run to the mountains. Mottlegill mushrooms, moss and woodland ferns were top of the list, and I found a bountiful selection of them within the depths of the forest. The recent rain showers had enticed a profusion of botanicals to emerge through the undergrowth and reveal their delights. 

I also managed to stumble upon some floral treats in the form of buttercups (Ranunculus bulbosus), Eyebright (Euphrasia) and the rambling Herb Robert (Geranium robertianum). It was a job well done and allowed me to enrich my botanical collections once more for some brand new projects on the horizon.

Meet me in the wildflower meadows

Flower foraging is not only a daily adventure for me, but a valuable learning experience too. I like to constantly learn and improve my knowledge of flowers and all things botanical. I've built up quite a collection of pressed wildflowers over the years, and I'm now the proud owner of my very own miniature pressed botanical library. It's important to me that my flowers are not bought online, but are sourced and picked from my surroundings. I've always advocated that my processes, materials and inspirations are all sourced locally and are distinct to me. It's what keeps me on my toes and allows me to freely explore my own creative yearnings, and not be dependent on external influences and trends.

I began using Queen Anne's Lace many years ago before it became ubiquitous amongst resin makers nowadays. I have always felt the urge to move as far away as possible from the over saturated mainstream, and have started once again to source other flowers that makers have yet to discover. I found Cow Parsley to be the perfect alternative. It grows in abundance where I live from late May, billowing out from the woodlands like puffs of shimmering clouds. It's quite a sight to behold when venturing through a forest sprayed with delicate white blooms:

Silent Noon

'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass. 

All round our nest, far as the eye can pass, 

Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge 

Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge. 

'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

          -Dante Gabriel Rossetti           

Cow Parsley  is often confused with Queen Anne's Lace, but it is indeed a different flower. They are both from the Apiaceae family and are Umbellifers plants due to their umbrella-like flower heads. Cow Parsley is commonly known as Wild Chervil (Anthriscus sylvestris), while Queen Anne's Lace is Wild Carrot (Daucus carota). 

It is also worth noting that both plants must be observed methodically before picking or ingesting; in particular with Cow Parsley or 'Devils Parsley' as it is often referred to due to its very close resemblance to Hemlock (Conium maculatum); a fatally poisonous weed that should never be touched or ingested. To distinguish between the two, just remember: Cow Parsley has a slightly hairy green stalk and fern-like, triangular, 3-pinnate leaves with pointed segments, while hemlock has a thick stalk speckled with purple dots, feathery, 2-4 pinnate leaves and a pungent musty aroma. Many people have been unknowingly poisoned by Hemlock in the past believing it was either Queen Anne's Lace or Cow Parsley, which are both edible before they begin to flower.

When I pick Cow Parsley, I normally wear a glove to protect my skin from sap or nettles which grow in amongst the flowers. The sap isn't harmful, like Hogweed would be (causes severe burns), but as I have quite a medley of skin sensitivities and allergies, I always take extra precautions. 

Buttercups and Japanese Roses are also flourishing in profusion in the local parks near me. The aroma of the Japanese Rose (Rosa rugosa) is the most heavenly fragrance. No wonder it has been used for centuries to make pot-pourri. I plucked a few heart-shaped petals to press, but always leave the stamen, as bees love these flowers, and they are an important source of food for them.  

The meadows are dotted with yellow floral confetti in the form of dazzling buttercups (Ranunculus) ; Creeping, Meadow and Bulbous varieties are out in full force and offer the most beautiful vista, especially set against a foreboding grey sky. These are such easy flowers to press, and I use them extensively in my work. My buttercup pendant with my signature 24k gold leaf background is an ode to my childhood days spent picking these blissful blooms and playing amongst the wildflowers. They always carry fond memories for me, which you can read more about here.

Life in amongst the hedgerows

These warm balmy spring days have encouraged me to abandon the stifling heat of the studio and venture off into my local park to gather the latest batch of blooms slowly emerging through the undergrowth. It also felt necessary to wear some flowers around my neck for the ensuing task ahead, so I wore my own daisy necklace ; the perfect accessory for the day.

During my walks I love to scan for colour and curious finds. Today it marked the turn of a firm favourite of mine; Germander Speedwell, in Latin; 'Veronica chamaedrys', or commonly known as Birds Eye Speedwell. This elegant bonny blue wildflower makes its debut from May to July. Although it is often viewed as an irksome weed by gardeners, to me it signals the coming of summer, and its tiny intricate petals and slender stems have such an ethereal beauty to them that truly justifies some adoration.  

The Common Speedwell

...Thou art a jewel on the brow of May,
That, robed in scented garments, wings her way!
Emblem of Friendship rarest gem of blue
From me thou ever hast affection true!

-James Rigg

I made myself busy in the afternoon by pressing handfuls of the speedwell, and filled up quite a few pages in my flower press. They were also accompanied by the ubiquitous Herb Robert or 'Geranium Robertianum', which adds a delightful pop of pink to the Irish hedgerows throughout spring and summer. I was joined on my expedition by a rotund fluffy bumble bee who was buzzing through the vibrant fuchsia, almost getting stuck in one or two of the trumpet-like blooms. Her little legs poking out from beneath a skirt of magenta petals was a magic moment I was fortunate to capture. 

Later, I discovered some beautiful posies of Hawthorn flowers, subtly blushed with pink. The Hawthorn is synonymous with Irish folklore, viewed as bringing good luck to the owner and prosperity to the land on where it stands. Therefore, if it is chopped down and plundered for its wood, great misfortune beckons on the horizon. According to local myths, this activity unsettles the faerie folk who use the Hawthorn tree as a place of gathering. A curse is then bestowed upon the culprit who carries out the deed:  

Hawthorn

'Beware, beware the hawthorn,

Lest it strike you down,

For if you take an axe to it

You'll rue that you were born.'

-Giles Watson

Even to this day, entrenched superstitions associated with these trees run deep in rural Irish communities, and a lot of farmers would avoid cutting down a Hawthorn tree, even if it may be an obstruction in a field. So, I will continue the tradition and avoid the bark. Instead, I pick just a few of the flowers as these will eventually turn into berries, which are a vital source of food for birds and other hedgerow creatures later on in the year.

Next time you're out, take a little peak at the hedgerows and you'll discover a fascinating and bustling microcosm living in amongst it.

Hello from the Lost Forest

Welcome to my new blog. I hope you'll click and subscribe, and follow my new journey through the Irish woodlands, secret gardens and days spent on the farm. I will be offering a little photographic pathway into my world as a designer and a perpetual daydreamer.

Today I spent a sunny spring afternoon in my local park to collect some beautiful wildflowers and marvel at the dappled light flickering through the trees. Bluebells and cow parsley were blooming brightly under the watchful eye of ancient trees. Days like these always fill me with a renewed sense of creativity and inspiration; providing me with a much needed boost to start sketching lots of brand new ideas.