That time of year

“No matter that our water supply has dead sheep floating about in it, as long as we have the jolly old gentian to help us get well”

Country Sights and Sounds
John Shelly

Is it that time of year again already? It was almost with a feeling of shock that I stumbled upon a bright blue cluster of spring gentians, and then, when I looked further, there were dozens upon dozens of similar groupings. They look well in the sunshine, that surprising splash of colour a delicate reminder of the richness of the world around us. I think it is well that these little beauties are short in the stem; otherwise they would be gathered into posies for the kitchen table, and in a short time the poor and stony grassland where they grow would be left to the few tough sedge species that thrive there.
The sedges are another miracle in themselves. Their long, thin, leathery leaves have a waxy upper surface to deflect the heat of the sun, and in dry weather they curl inwards upon themselves to protect the stomata, the tiny pores on the underside of every leaf, from drying out. The roots, too, are well suited to this hostile environment, being thick and fleshy, containing enough nutrients to carry the plants through times of prolonged drought, should such a thing ever befall us.
Later in the year this same ground will carry a coating of pink-spotted orchid flowers, yellow birdsfoot trefoil, and purple bugle. For a few weeks, we will walk through a kaleidoscope of colour as we go to and from the lake. Sadly, there are still a few who see places such as this as suitable repositories for their household rubbish and worse.
Yes, we have litter wardens, but they have a thankless task. Even when they risk the wrath of the people they must live among by taking them to the courts, they see their hard work undone, as paltry fines are meted out.
Even then, who gets to clean up the litter? For the most part it stays where it has been thrown until such time as the wind carries it elsewhere or it becomes assimilated into the soil.
Just last week I experienced littering of the worst kind while walking the banks of a stream that flows, ultimately, into Lough Mask and from there into the taps of many thousands of households. Despite the banks being well fenced, a number of sheep carcasses were lying in the water. We can only assume that these animals were somehow conscious of their impending demise, and, not wanting to trouble their farmer-owner, had climbed the three strands of barbed wire before throwing themselves down the steep bank and into our drinking water. They are still there, melting slowly into the stream. Think of them when next you put the kettle on. I wonder if they have tags in their ears?
Disposing of dead animals in this way is nothing new. Yet with water quality so much in the news one would imagine a sense of community responsibility would endure, and that those whose animals die would dispose of them properly. Still, despite the obvious risk to health, there are some, and not a few, who would strongly object to what they affectionately call ‘outside interference’.
Yet by no means should we consider that all farmers are like-minded. Indeed, there are many who see themselves as custodians of the countryside, who appreciate the spirit with which the Rural Environment Protection Scheme (REPS) was installed, and who, while not averse to the tidy sum subscribing to REPS brings them, are simply happy to contribute to a healthy countryside.
It is only in such a place that we shall continue to enjoy the abundance of wild flowers like the spring gentian. The limestone pavement of the Burren is famous for these beauties, and visitors flock in their droves to see them there. I wonder do they know that the name gentian, now synonymous with the colour blue, is derived from Gentius, an Illyrian king who was credited with discovering the curative properties of powdered gentian roots more than 2,000 years ago.
Culpeper recommended gentian as a treatment for many ills. He claims that gentian root can, among other things, help ‘the biting of mad dogs and venomous beasts’ and, interestingly, cure poisoning and putrefactions. So, no matter that our water supply has dead sheep floating about in it, as long as we have the jolly old gentian to help us get well.