Mee Outdoors Photography

It seems that spring has dawned slowly this year. Tentatively. Conservatively.

With Beltane now past, it feels like a pointent time to stop and reflect on how the wheel of the year has turned thus far.

This reflection emerges through the early flowers and their role in my dreamy imagination.

Magnolia

I didn’t know what a magnolia was for a long time, but I did know I was intimidated by it.

Grand, heavy petals, knarled trunks. This nameless tree flowering so uncharacteristically to your typical, dainty spring blossom.

I see it differently, now. From perhaps wondering and slowly realising how incredible, fleeting and so magnificantly huge the magnolia flowers can be.

I love to see it, to touch it, to hold in the colours and scent into my mind.

Primrose

Like much of Britain’s nature, I discovered primroses while also discovering hiking.

Clustered in numbers or scattered across more precarious areas, primroses quietly champion the coming sunshine and the longer days ahead.

They look like mini suns and are a wonderful sight early in the year, proving winter is breaking.

Daffodil

I’ve found myself infuriated by the daffodil this year. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flower look so miserable.

My visions of sun-soaked, dazzling, confident floral photos have been thoroughly dashed.

This is, of course, no fault of this poor little flower. The sun has not been a frequent visitor this spring, and their visage has suffered for it.

The consequence is a downcast trumpet, as the daffodils turn their heads in a kind of resigned meloconoly…. Gazing into the soil with longing and silent hopes for a brighter subsequent year.

However, that’s not to say others haven’t enjoyed strolling past their defeated faces.

Violet

Despite their amazing colour, violets somehow manage to blend into the landscape.

They’re low to the ground, quiet and most unassuming.

I spot them infrequently and have found they are quite camera-shy.

It seems it is not easy to focus on a violet. And I think that’s the way they quite like it.

Azalea

The only non-native flower that’s found a home in my imagination.

There’s something about wandering around vivid pink carpets of petals when the azaleas drop.

For bees however the scene seemed to spark a complete frenzy to enjoy the last of the flowers before they are gone.

Bluebell

The scent of an English bluebell gets me high.

I feel light, I feel pretty, I feel dazed, I feel drunk.

Floating away into the heady fragrance of ‘blubes’, plus the dampness and moss of the woodland floor, mixed with a dabbling of sunshine, is among the most magnificent ways to spend a day.

Hawthorn

Hawthorn is my favourite.

It is utterly ubiquitous and almost universally ignored.

Few things in life give me greater joy than to walk through the countryside and to catch the scent of hawthorn before I see its clouds of foaming blossom.

I love this flower; I love the trunk, the leaves, the colour of the fresh and dried berries, and the fact that it’s everywhere and is an absolute pillar of wildlife habitat.

Every flower makes me feel a burst of happiness. But few make me feel such an intense wave of love, joy, appreciation and a passionate need to protect the natural environment than the humble hawthorn.