Wild Flower Meadows

I love wild flowers and none more so than the wild meadow flowers. Aren't they just the best? Take a good look at the pic above. Breathtakingly beautiful, isn't it? Here's a close up of another meadow, taken in early June.
Much more interesting and beautiful than an ordinary lawn trimmed and nuked within an inch of its life, don't you think?
Here, the same meadow in it's full glory. Any idea yet, where I took these pictures?
That's right, Great Dixter, the late, great Christopher Lloyd's garden. Two years ago I spent a glorious Sunday afternoon there, basking in all the delights that Great Dixter provided.

When I first saw those beautiful meadows in front of the house I wanted to do what Dolly is doing here;
dive in it, roll around in it, take a big bite out of it, in short enjoy it to my heart's delight. But then I thought: better not, I don't think Mr Lloyd will appreciate me rolling around in this gorgeous meadow that was so painstakingly made by his mum, about half a decade or more ago. So I didn't do the rolling thingy, but it wasn't easy!

When I got home from Great Dixter and other gardens I'd visited in Kent, England in 2005, I had my own flower meadow to enjoy. Don't you just love all those cute little daisies in the grass. Who would be without them?
I like these simple and modest little flowers so much that I've even named my Maine Coon cat Dolly Daisy after them. Daisies have so many happy childhood memories attached to them. Remember making daisy chains or picking little daisy posies for your mum or for miss, the school teacher? Or doing the s/he loves me -s/he loves me not thingy?

So I really do not and can not understand that some people prefer a lawn with only those boring green blades of grass without any daisies, clover or dandelions to relieve the utter snore fest that 'perfect' lawns are. There must be something seriously wrong with you if you don't like daisies. :-)
And you don't have to be human either to love daisies in your lawn; here's Sam (Russian Blue) and Vita (Maine Coon) frolicking amongst the daisies. Fortunately, at Bliss we can all roll on the grass to our heart's content as is clearly demonstrated here by Pippa, Sam's daughter. Is she having fun or what?
I have always loved the wild meadow flowers, even as a little girl. I remember taking spins with my dad on our bicycles in the countryside when I was about 6 or 7 years old. As soon as we saw a meadow with wild flowers my dad would let me run riot in it. I can still remember how happy I was, running through the high grasses and wild flowers that were about waist high then. And after all that running around I would lie flat on my back and look up at the blue sky with the white fluffy clouds, my vision framed by beautiful red poppies that were dancing in the breeze.
Those beautiful meadows full of wild flowers were everywhere in the countryside then and not a rare sight as they are today, unfortunately.
Before my dad and I would return home, I would pick the most humongous bunch of flowers and grasses my little arms could hold. And as soon as we got home, I would give the bouquet to my mum and she would put the flowers and grasses in the biggest vase she could find. They would only last for a day or two, but oh what a glorious sight for the eyes and soul!

When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo,
Cuckoo,
Cuckoo: O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
William Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost