Primrosing

When we were children, in 1950`s, one of the activities we loved to do, was to go primrosing. This seems quite unbelievable now but that`s what we did.

We had intimate knowledge of our surrounding fields, woods and lanes in a two to three mile radius of our home and we were always out and about. Far more than children are allowed today. Today young people are amazed at the freedom we were privileged to enjoy.

We took buns and a bottle of lemonade, our little dog Pixie and off we would go, telling Mum approximately where we were headed. 

On a primrosing day we would head off to the secret places that only we knew about .... at least we rather hoped this was the case. There was quite a lot of rivalry amongst our younger neighbours to find the most bunches and the best places. and when we found new places we kept it to ourselves. We brought them home to Mum where they were placed in jam jars on the windowsill.

On show to everyone were the banks of primroses in Peter James Lane and Rosemary Lane. And they still grow there. 

I well remember one Easter
Day we walked with our Dad all the way to Fairlight through Peter James Lane to see my Granny and Grandad. We carried baskets and filled them with primroses all the way, presenting the wilting bunches at the other end. I loved that walk. 

Well I loved all our walks.

Today of course we do not pick the wild flowers. They say the wild flowers are depleted but I do not see it here in East Sussex. The verges, woods, lanes and banks are covered in wild flowers. The primroses grow in clumps in all the places I remember. 

According to the Woodland Trust, primroses can give us a clue as to the age of woodlands. They signify ancient woodland. And Guestling Wood is one of them. It is close to Freshwinds Garden and close to our home. Lovely walks at all times of the year.

 

Other folklore ..... primroses are often associated with fairies. Placing primroses on the doorstep was believed to bring blessings while placing them in a cowshed would prevent the fairies from stealing the milk.

 

 

Long may we see the beautiful pale yellow primrose, with its ethereal perfume, in our woods and lanes.