From Coast & Cove by Anna Koska

Author:Anna Koska [Koska, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2022-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Recently, while kayaking along the estuary and out to sea, I’ve noticed that the same slanging matches have grown more audible. No longer is there the careful coyness of those trying to avoid a predatory gaze. And my late-afternoon shoreline wanders have become a feathery front line. All caution has been thrown to the onshore breeze and the air has become thick with the chatter of new couples organizing nesting arrangements. There’s the sweet refrain of males puffing chests while beak-deep in dispute, while others are still engaged in the fiercely competitive game of ‘Come Mate with Me’.

The weave of tiny lanes that loop their way around the villages and hamlets here are banked by deep, high hedges. In recent months, both farmers and the local council have worked hard to prepare them for the year, cutting back wayward branches, squaring off edges and topping them out to ensure clean visuals ahead for all that use these roads… all in an effort to avoid the need for maintenance later. As they race towards the growing season, these hedgerows will morph into thriving nurseries to be filled with this year’s young.

The bare, weatherworn arms of beech and blackthorn that were so tightly woven as if to save heat and modesty are now beginning to fill with the first colour swatches of spring’s new wardrobe. For the last few weeks, yellow primroses have been holding the stage door ajar for others to follow. The small, flushed faces of herb robert can be found peeking out from between early blades of bluebell foliage, and young nettles have appeared in clumps among the tangled skeletons of last year’s brambles. For the lanes that wind closer to the coast, the hedgerows are beginning to change into a different spring collection. The sea air offers a damper, salty environment. However, a fierce storm can quickly reduce all lush growth to a severely abraded muddle. And yet there are those plants that seem to like nothing better than this harshest of habitats. Poking out from the ancient and rather dishevelled beards of traveller’s joy are the lush leaves and yellow mops of young alexanders. Every exposed section of stone walling wears a carpet of dimple-leaved navelwort and, tucked into the darker crevices, small flashes of purple reveal the violet to be a hardier plant than I originally thought. Lesser celandine is beginning to flourish and spread like a spill of sunshine along most lanes, and especially those that snake towards the sea.

I hear from a friend in Sussex that the blackthorn is in bud, its tiny tight fists beginning to loosen. It was a sight I used to inwardly applaud when cycling along the lanes there. But here in Devon, we seem to have an abundance of wild cherry instead. Like torn clouds, fallen and swept into the corners of fields to be caught among the outstretched arms of overgrown thickets, it is everywhere I look… So much of it, that I’ve had to stop the car to hop out and double check that it really is cherry.

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