
Flower friends, it’s been a couple of weeks, have you missed me? Last week’s letter just didn’t happen - sometimes life gets in the way of the best made plans, and anyway, I’m back. There are both beach and woodland plants to share with you this time, after managing to get out walking in both directions. I took a hit this week on the Facebook page for Hoylake Beach, some anonymous user actually swore at me and called me a complete dipstick, and surprisingly, rather than outrage and hurt, it seems my rehabilitation is now complete, my reconnection with nature so strengthened and fortified that this barb, which previously would have cut me down and laid me low, merely glanced off my green shield. How did I react to the insult? Reader, I went for a walk.

Around the end of the exam period, I realised it was over a week (horror!) since I had set one foot in front of the other for no better reason than to look at plants, and coinciding with this online assault, well, I simply had to get out and surround myself with greenery. Setting off for the beach just to clear my mind, reminding myself that the haters gonna hate, away I went to see what I could see. Within no time the words had rolled off me like water on a well oiled duck and my attention was fully focussed on the minutiae of the latest growth.
It is interesting to note the differences in well known plants when growing in different locations - for example the Rosebay Willowherb. Look at it closely and RBWH (my favourite wildflower) has denim blue pollen, it’s gorgeous. Apiarists see blue pollen baskets on bees who have been visiting these tall pink spires. Today, there is no evidence of blue pollen on the flowers on the beach - I think there are a couple of explanations. The insect count is low this year, disturbingly so. However the beach is buzzing. There were many bees close by, one or two busy foraging on the flowers. Could they have already stripped the flower of its blue pollen? Or is it possible that the location could affect the pollen colour? I’d really like to know. I have inundated the search engine with questions and whilst the AI answers are super specific, mentioning Hoylake beach without prompting (as well as informing me printing processes can modify the colour of pollen, hmm?) it’s not actually giving me anything concrete. It did however lead me down an unexpected side route and I learned that bees store different pollens in seperate cells in the hive. They have cells for nectar, for pollen and for honey, and they store pollen with great care, rarely mingling different pollens in one cell. The pictures that accompanied this post (trogtrogbee) are really special, reminiscent of Jonas Frei’s gorgeous pictures of corn kernels, it’s pretty amazing how well the two sets of colours chime - check them out (@j.d.frei). Also notable, and I say this all the time, the colours of these flowers on the beach are vivid and intense…



Walking on the beach cleanses the icky sensation left by (not the first) online slur from those opposed to natural growth. Or, perhaps it's just nice to be out and away from all the people. What I do know, notice and enjoy is all the different greens, so many different shades of green - burr-marigold, goose-foot, corn-mint, the neon green glow of a bank of sedge, the soft minty blue of the marram.

Later, I visited the Tip Path - it had been a while. It struck me how many things had changed, lately I have been watching the wild roses come and go through my car windows, the ragwort overtaking the grasses and taking over the verges. So it was heartening to come across several healthy stands of Goatsbeard (Tragopogon pratensis). Green and purple buds stand spearlike and tall, the flowers are opening, and here and there a seed head catches the sun. One patch showed signs of the smut fungus spotted last year, I hope it remains contained. The dark side of developing a strong connection to nature (emotional attachment) is the upset and hurt when the thing you care for is damaged or hurt. Two stretches of hedge lining the path have been wilfully burnt, whether by fire or chemical it’s hard to say. Happily I can report the understory is recovering, and quickly, the verge is covered in horsetail, bistort, meadow vetchling and tormentil, pretty shades of green, pink and yellow - but the damage to the hawthorns upsets me.
I realise I am sensitive, possibly too much so, but I genuinely feel these hurts physically yourself and it's something that I have to work on and learn to deal with. There is clearly something bigger, deeper, larger than just me and the hedge going on here. In our interconnected eco system, those hurts, slashes, burns, cuts - they are not merely inflicted on the hedgerows, forests and trees. They are an attack on something much larger than the individual and as we are part of the whole, those attacks are inflicted on us. Collectively we feel the pain and we suffer, even when the numbing caused by our disconnect means we may not realise it at the time. Just imagine waking up to one of those fictional dystopian futures we are so familiar with from popular culture, waking up and there is no green, finally, we have managed to destroy it all. How long could in that environment, both practically or psychologically?
I dictate these thoughts into my phone as I walk, and you’ll be pleased to hear that at that precise moment I jumped from dystopia to: “Oh! Willow warblers! I spotted one, oops, it’s flown away now, hmm, no, I think that might have been a gold finch.” I also spotted a stand of night shade and some almost-open wild carrot, let me share some pictures with you:



Let’s enjoy all the nature around us, it is still here! Where have you been walking recently, and what have you seen? I love to hear what everyone has spotted and what natural sights have inspired you, please join in and share in the comments!
Thank you for walking with me, as always, and until next time, with love, Ling
NEWS FROM THE STUDIO:
SUMMER CLASSES Join me and learn how to make amazing, realistic paper flowers! Over the summer I have spaces on the following classes:
Open Rose: 12th August 10 - 1, £30; Fancy Iris: 14th August 10 - 2, £40; Colour Popping Poppies: 19th August10 - 2, £50 and Glorious Gladioli: 28th August 10 - 4 £60
Hop over and book here paperbydragonfly.com
We have just one weekend ticket and a few day tickets left on The Paper Garden Masterclass! Grab your ticket here!
Yesterday was the last of our Paper Flower Evening Classes (back in September) and we went out in style with elegant red water lilies, more challenging than anticipated although that could have been the effect of the heat. I’m so grateful to everyone who comes along, both regulars and occasional visitors. Every week I relish the challenge of taking on a new flower and translating it into a two hour class, but this autumn we’ll be experimenting with short series of in-depth classes focussing on just one flower, starting in September with Sunflowers. Booking details coming soon, watch this space.
This September I will be exhibiting 'Tidal Threads: Nature's Reflections' on Hilbre Island along with my studio neighbour Amanda Oliphant. Full access details will be published closer to the time but I expect to be in residence (around the tides!) from 8th - 14th September at The Bouymasters House, with the exhibition installed and open to all on 13th - 14th September. You will find us in The Bouymasters Store and Workshop with 'Tidal Threads: Nature's Reflections' - for Drawing Out Hilbre Archipelago for BADA and The Independents Biennial. I hope to see you on the island!
FINALLY This week I hosted Esme who joined me on work experience from West Kirby Grammar and who was a godsend, helping us to hit the target of 1800 (!!) Paper Wildflower Craftkits ready for RHS Wentworth Woodhouse in just over a weeks time. She also helped build bluebells and wild roses for our stand -with my girls on hand to help with the final details next week, I’m nearly there. Eek! Thanks Esme x
All images and artwork copyright Ling Warlow 2023 - 2025
When we comment about others we are saying more about ourselves than them. Glad you brushed it off, Ling.
Delightful, as always. Gosh, what a pain to receive such a comment, but glad you were able to shake it off with a good walk. I also adore rosebay willowherb! So delicate.