Earth Pathways Showcase

Somewhere I read the quote that bogs are hard to love, and you might think I would agree, especially upon my maiden trip, when I sank to knee depth and stared in dismay as my turf-cutters’ path suddenly disappeared on a bleak twilight expedition to visit a passage tomb in Orkney recently. It was hard to imagine how anyone could like, or go as far as to love, these seemingly empty, bleak and gloopy places. Bogs, I discovered on my next experience – a beautiful summer’s day, when sunlight glinted on dark waters – are worth getting to know though, and contain an outstanding abundance of wildlife, flora and fauna that you simply don’t find in many places, other than, well, bogs.

As you may gather, I am now a bog lover, (albeit a cautious one!). I am wholeheartedly enthused for all their hidden treasures. The most famous are the ominous and mysterious bog bodies, and other offerings that were cast into the black depths to placate the portentous gods of old. My new bog muse, however, is much less ostentatious, but equally exquisite, especially from May to August in Scotland, when she waves her wispy mane of powder-puff silken locks, standing tall and proud yet totally unpretentious in all her delicate glory. I am sure she has saved many a weary person by effectively marking potential foot or leg soaking areas. She cannot fail to lift the spirits of any willing passer-by. Bog Cotton is worthy of my love, even now as I sit typing on my keyboard, in my comparatively sterile, nine to five life, when I can only gaze at my pin-up girl and dream.

Bog Cotton - A New Love Story © Thea Prothero

My old traveller Gran loved Gorse or Onn (old Gaelic and easy to say) and bright purple heather or Ur, which means renewal. She said Gorse was a spark of sun throughout the year, a reminder that the sunshine would return, especially on cold wet days when freezing muddy water streamed under our feet as we collected sticks of both Gorse and Heather for a smoky fire. If there were Gorse bushes we would always pitch as close as we could to them, as they were the best windbreak and the best place to dry washing.

She always said that Gorse lifts the spirits of the sorrowful – and who could fail to be moved by the deep yellow coco-nutty honeyed flowers? Gorse flower and Heather tea was the prescribed cure for any sadness; it could melt frosted hearts, aid freezing hands, and take away that headache too.

She could even tell the weather by looking at the bushes. If there was an abundance of Heather flowers in autumn, it meant a harsh long winter to follow. Sometimes she used Gorse sticks to divine an outcome for people who wanted their fortunes told. We always had Gorse in the van in May as this ensured a good dry summer. Every time I see Onn and Ur flowers, I think of Gran and smile.

Sunbeams and Dancing Ladies © Thea Prothero 2015