Foraging fail

One of the entertaining things about moving to a new house is seeing what comes up in the garden.  I know that we have several fruit trees - apple, cherry, plum, and apricot - and I can't wait to see which is which.  We also have all sorts of beautiful geraniums, nigella, nasturtium, and, of course, forget-me-nots popping up in every bed.  It's a little thrill every time I see something new sprouting - though it does mean I've let the weeds grow much more than I have in gardens that I designed myself.  And my restraint paid off, as I would likely have uprooted a large stand of aquilegia.

Living in the countryside, I also get excited about the flora and fauna surrounding us.  I have had a recipe calling for wild garlic since time immemorial.  Now I live near woodlands - I went foraging for wild garlic.

I found none.  I toodled through all the local woods, with and without children, dogs, and spouse and found nada.  Sadly, I filed away my recipe for another day.

I was weeding the flower bed today, when I noticed a distinctive garlicky smell coming from the bruised leaves of what I had assumed were more bluebells or lily of the valley.  A closer look at the emerging flowers confirmed it.  I have wild garlic in my back yard.

My own Allium ursinum

 

My first thought was "I can't believe I spent all that time looking for something that I had at home.  Metaphor for life, right?  My second was "now I know what's for dinner!"