Wild Flowers
The Isle has the highest number of species of native and anciently introduced wild flowers of any area of comparable size in Britain. This is largely due to the varied geology. The species most frequently sought is Early Spider Orchid, which in Britain, is most common in Purbeck. Nearly 50,000 flowering spikes were counted in 2009. Late April is the best time, and the largest population is usually in the field to the west of Dancing Ledge. Smaller numbers can be seen on a shorter walk in Durlston Country Park. This orchid is the logo of the Dorset Wildlife Trust. Cowslip meadows (Primula veris and Primula deorum) are at their best shortly afterwards and Durlston Country Park has several large ones.
In early May several woods have carpets of Wild Garlic (Ramsons). King's Wood and Studland Wood, both owned by The National Trust, are good examples. At around the same time and later some Downs have carpets of yellow Horseshoe Vetch and blue Chalk Milkwort. In late May the field near Old Harry Rocks has a carpet of yellow Kidney Vetch.
Sheep's bit (blue) and Sea Bindweed (pink and white) lend colour to Studland dunes in June. Both Heath Spotted and Southern Marsh Orchids are frequent on Corfe Common that month, and Harebells and Betony (purple) flowers add colour to the Common in July.
Dorset Heath, the county flower, can be found in July and August in large numbers, especially on and around Hartland Moor, in damper parts of the heathland. Bog Asphodel gives displays of yellow flowers there in early July. Marsh Gentian is found less frequently in similar areas from mid August to mid September.
Read more about this topic: Isle Of Purbeck
Famous quotes containing the words wild flowers, wild and/or flowers:
“It is hard going to the door
cut so small in the wall where
the vision which echoes loneliness
brings a scent of wild flowers in the wood.”
—Robert Creeley (b. 1926)
“And Change with hurried hand has swept these scenes:
The woods have fallen, across the meadow-lot
The hunter’s trail and trap-path is forgot,
And fire has drunk the swamps of evergreens;
Yet for a moment let my fancy plant
These autumn hills again: the wild dove’s haunt,
The wild deer’s walk: in golden umbrage shut,”
—Frederick Goddard Tuckerman (1821–1873)
“All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time.
Survey our progress from our birth—
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth”
—John Webster (c. 1580–1638)