Dew on the Grass

A photograph of dew droplets on grass stalks underfoot. I almost trod on this particular one before noticing that it was unusually dewy and deciding to take a picture. This is the reason I'm always late everywhere.

The colours of the grass in the photograph are so lush and vibrant, and I like the contrast of the greens and browns. Even in winter, good sunlight can really bring out the colours of nature.

And on the subject of dew-based photography, much though it pains me to link to a Daily Mail article, I just had to post a link to these incredible pictures of insects covered in dew droplets that look like diamonds.

I really wanted to post this link as well, to a photographyblogger article called "20 Spectacular Dew On Grass Pictures". Obviously, if you look at the link you will be struck by the hideous contrast between these amazing photos of dew and my poor offering, but I liked some of the pictures so much that I just can't force myself not to post it. I love this photo by Tico, in which all the dewdrops reflect the greenery around them, and this photo by ecstaticist - the huge glimmering globules of dew remind me of a pair of frog's eyes.

The World In A Drop of Water

This is a teeny version of the whole picture, alas. It's a shame the whole thing is so blurry but I was rather proud of managing to get the focus on the reflection of the plants in the droplet of dew, even if I couldn't actually keep my hands still while doing so.

Flower... or flour?

Pictures of flowers, pictures of flowers, pictures of flowers, picture of a leaf... It's enough to make you want to scream. Like this fine gentleman, a sculpture at Buckfast Abbey (in fact, I like to imagine the sculpture represents the facial expression which is induced by trying Buckfast tonic wine. It's like alcoholic Calpol).

Being mildly obsessive, I have been monitoring my blog stats and it turns out that by far my most popular post was one in which I talked at length about the strange fact that whales are dinosaurs are always compared to buses. Unsurprisingly, these musings were unrelated to the picture of the day, which was of a flower. I'm sure that all the people wanting to find out how many buses equals a humpback whale were wildly disappointed when they discovered my blog is almost solely comprised of photographs of flowers, but at least this knowledge has somewhat strengthened my resolve to continue writing about random bits and bobs. Because it's interesting to find what people find interesting.

And so. I have been racking my brains. After my recent post about pandas, I was trying to think of something else to discuss. And then it hit me. Flower. Flour. What's going on there?

Flower vs. Flour

As it turns out, there are multiple companies whose names were inspired by these homophones. Predictably, they are bakers (I nearly said "cakists". But obviously that's not actually a word. Although possibly it should be, to distinguish between those who waste their time making bread, and those who concentrate on delicious, delicious cake).

Those who have trouble spelling will no doubt be delighted to learn that originally, the words "flour" and "flower" were spelled the same way. They both apparently derive from the Old French word fleur, which meant both "flower" in its modern sense, and also had a sense of "the finest", as in the finest part of the meal. The meal as in the ground-up grains, not the meal as in lunch dinner breakfast. Etymology is baffling. Apparently Samuel Johnson's 1755 dictionary did not recognise a difference in spelling between the two words, but by the 1830s there had, presumably, been a few incidents of unwary cooks feeding their families cakes made out of the shrubbery, and the whole mess was gradually straightened out.

I've not seen anything to support/prove this in any of the etymologies I've found, but based on my research (coughgooglingcough) I wondered whether the eventual clarification of the two words had something to do with the city of Rochester, New York; in the 1820s the town developed a famous and booming flour mill industry and then in the 1830s it also gained a renowned and thriving seed-selling business. Perhaps the residents of Rochester found it especially important to differentiate between flour and flowers; certainly the town's nickname is given initially as the Flour City and, later, the Flower City. Given how neatly the dates line up, I'm surprised I haven't been able to find anything linking the town to wider acceptance of the two spellings. Rochester, you're missing a trick.

Campsight

When we arrived at our campsite in Cornwall this summer, this was the view over the fields at the back. Sadly it didn't stay quite as sunny for the entire duration of our stay. One evening it was raining so hard that we drove from our tent to the sinks to brush our teeth...

Still Lily

Just found a lily, sitting in a bit of wood. And took a photo, because obviously that's the right and proper reaction to such a situation.

The Snipe

And this is the owner of the very beautiful feathered tail I posted a picture of a couple of days ago.

A Brief History of Thyme

In Ancient Egypt, thyme was used in the embalming process; in ancient Greece, it was used as incense and believed to be a source of courage; the Romans spread the herb across Europe through their use of it to purify their rooms and flavour certain foods; in the Middle Ages it was used to ward off nightmares and promote a good night's sleep.

Okay, I'm done now. Thanks again, Wikipedia!

Obviously the above photograph is not of a thyme plant, it's some kind of very pretty iris, one of my favourite kinds of flower.

Give Me Your Answer, Do

Taken on a cliff-top walk in Cornwall. It was a really lovely walk, although unfortunately like an idiot I managed to get a fairly horrific sunburn on the back of my legs and spent the next few days slathering them in
olive oil and E45 moisturiser. Also, because we were camping, every time I had to crawl into the tent, the backs of my knees registered serious complaints with my brain. It was painful! So don't do that.

Interestingly, I was reading recently that the song "Daisy Daisy" (you know the one… about a bicycle made for two), was apparently first written about Daisy Greville, Countess of Warwick and mistress of Edward VII. Apparently she was known as the "Babbling Brooke" for her inability to keep things discreet and was thought to be partially responsible for the leaking of the Royal Baccarat Scandal in 1890, which resulted in Edward being called to testify in court and the whole affair turned into a bit of a society spectacle. It's strangely comforting to know that even a hundred years ago, tabloid gossip was still tabloid gossip.

I also like how the Wikipedia article on the scandal states that Prince Edward restrained his gambling afterwards, by taking up whist instead of baccarat. An altogether more respectable card game. And, incidentally, one which I learned how to play whilst on holiday in Cornwall. So the cycle of facts turns full circle.