Viper's Bugloss

Viper's Bugloss! Viper's Bugloss! Viper's Bugloss!

There, said it! Sorry about that but there is just something so exotic and unusual about the name that I can't resist repeating it. The plant's other names such as blue devil, snake flower, and viper's herb sound so much more prosaic don't they?

You may not have seen these handsome spikes of blue wild flowers that seem to colonies very particular patches of land, as they appear to be quite localised and I did not spot any coming back from Cumbria until we were well into Norfolk and onto the sandy soil of The Brecks. Indeed another place they are prevalent is near the site of a gravel extraction area on the outskirts of Norwich.

Viper's-Bugloss Archimedean vulgaten may have got its common name 'viper', from its spotted stem, which is said to resemble a snake's markings or from the shape of its flowers, which look like the head of a snake. The English herbalist Culpeper though thought it was the seed which led to the descriptive name.

“After the flowers are fallen, the seeds growing to be ripe, are blackish, cornered and pointed somewhat like the head of a viper.”

'Bugloss' comes from the Greek meaning 'ox's tongue' and refers to the rough, tongue-shaped leaves.

Like many of our native plants, it has been used in the past medicinally, helping to provoke a sweat as well as having diuretic properties that also helps the body expel toxins. Like its cousin Comfrey it contains allantoin which makes it useful for healing injuries by promoting growth of new cells. It has been used as a poultice for healing boils and of course for treating adder bites in humans and animals.

The Bumblebee Conservation Trust refer to it as the very best plant for bumblebees, honeybees, painted lady butterflies and burnet moths so in these worrying times for bees, I hope it continues to thrive.

Vipers Bugloss in a friend's garden.

Foxgloves

Foxgloves against a typical drystone wall of the Lake District.

Myself and Hubby have been lucky enough to enjoy a return visit to the Lake District but my, how the weather varies! We were last here in April when at times it was too hot to sit outside in the sun and Grandson was dousing himself with cold water. This time, most days have been a combination of low cloud, mirk and drizzle. Not that it bothers us unduly as we have all the necessary gear and have learned not to come here with preconceptions. Besides, all that rain and the local topography are perfect conditions for rhododendrons and azaleas and we were just in time to witness some truly stunning and colourful displays but what pleased me just as much as their rampant showiness, was the stately elegance of foxgloves, one of my most favourite flowers.

At home, our garden blooms with many tall spikes of mainly white or pale pink. Here, due in part I suppose to the acid soil, the colour is predominantly a vibrant shade of cerise and it's delightful seeing clumps on roadside verges and deep in gullys and woods.

They quite literally lift the heart, not least because the plants have been used in folk medicine for centuries to treat heart complaints, but it is thanks to English physician and botanist William Withering, (1741-1799) that its efficacy was proved. He made case studies of 156 of his own patients and was able to show that the drug digitalis, extracted from foxgloves, was important to their treatment for oedema, linked to heart disease. Withering's work on foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea) An Account of the Foxglove, and Some of Its Medical Uses was published in 1785 and his insights into the medical use of the plant proved crucial to our modern understanding of heart failure.

Born in Staffordshire to a father who was an apothecary, William trained after serving four years medical apprenticeship, at Edinburgh University where botany formed an important part of the curriculum. Later in his career, he would become a founding member of Birmingham General Hospital where he treated thousands of poor people, many for free.

It is the dried leaves of foxgloves that are prepared medicinally to strengthen contractions of the heart muscle and they are of course, poisonous if mis-handled. All of which begs the question I frequently ask of myself when I read of unlikely connections. How did folk medicine practitioners way back, first make the discovery that equated such beautiful wild plants with a treatment for heart disease still in use today?

Our paler, garden Foxgloves - equally beautiful...

Fabulous Forsythia

Who doesn't love Forsythia? The sight of its vibrant yellow flowers really makes Spring feel like Summer! It is very commonplace but nevertheless much treasured as a reminder of sunny days to come.

It was a surprise to me when I found out that Forsythia is a genus of flowing plants in the olive family Oleacea. There are about 11 species mostly native to eastern Asia, Japan, China, and Korea. No species of Forsythia was common in cultivation before about 1850 and it was not until 1908 that the first outstanding variety was imported into this country. Since those times many cultivars have been created.

We are most familiar with the early-flowing bush or small tree common to many parks and gardens named after Scottish botanist William Forsyth, (1737-1804), royal head gardener in Kensington and founding member of the Royal Horticultural Society. Its hardy four-lobed yellow flowers are produced in profusion in early spring before the leaves. These become pendent in rainy weather thus shielding the reproductive parts. The fruit is a dry capsule, containing several winged seeds.

Forsythia suspensa (Lian Qiao) with its graceful arching branches is considered one of the 50 fundamental herbs of Chinese herbology in use for over 4,000 years for ailments such as skin conditions. According to some legends, once forsythia begins to bloom, it means you’ll still have three more snowfalls before the winter is truly over but I've a suspicion this applies only to the Far East...?

In numerology, forsythia with its four joined petals is associated with the number 4 which is the number of Foundation: the four winds, the four seasons, the four astrological elements. 4's are solid, 'four-square' and reliable, so like those stoic forsythias in our gardens.

In the Victorian era, flowers were assigned special meanings, as part of a secret language hidden within bouquets and vases of mixed blooms and foliage. Forsythia was associated with anticipation which fits nicely with its role as a vibrant harbinger of Spring and the seasons to follow.

Korea has a musical instrument called the ajaeng, whose string were made of twisted silk supported by separate movable bridges was plucked or played with a bow. The bow is some 65 cm (25 inches) long, fashioned from a peeled and hollow forsythia branch that has been hardened with pine resin which helps resonation.