The beauty of honeysuckle

It’s the time of year when wild honeysuckle is in bloom and walks along country lanes in the UK, especially if taken in the evening, are accompanied by the sweet perfume released by the flowers. I’m not a believer in aromatherapy, but that scent always makes me feel good and the abundant flowers (see below) are also so attractive to the eye. 

If I was a creationist, I would think honeysuckle was designed by God for my enjoyment, but that wonderful scent is to attract pollinating insects – perhaps why it is stronger in the evening, when more pollinators are on the wing. The production of attractants by plants has evolved on many occasions and it is not just the volatile chemicals that we can also smell, flowers often contain markings that guide the pollinating insects, with their UV-sensitive eyesight, to the nectaries where they can feed on sugary secretions. These are another adaptation of the plant to ensure fertilisation, since the insects pick up pollen when feeding and this is transmitted to other flowers. 

The scent of honeysuckle has associations in folklore and there is a tradition that growing the plant around a porch prevents evil spirits from entering a house or cottage. Another old belief is that it is unlucky to bring honeysuckle indoors as the scent of flowers results in erotic dreams, something not favoured by the parents of girls [1]. This association of honeysuckle and love has been celebrated in paintings, whether in the delicate approaches shown by Devis (below, top) and Bristow (below, second) the overt intent shown by Rubens (below, third), or in the wistful sense of longing portrayed by Chowne (below, bottom). It is a sad irony that Chowne died from wounds during the First World War, having joined The Artists’ Rifles. 

Our love of wild honeysuckle has resulted in the cultivation of many different species, the commonest being three varieties of wild woodbine (Lonicera periclymenum), named “Belgica”, “Serotina” and “Graham Thomas”. It is not known whether the honeysuckle shown in the flower paintings of the Dutch Golden Age was wild or cultivated, but it is given status alongside prized garden plants, including some very valuable tulips. Examples of flower paintings by Ruysch (below, upper) and de Heem (below, lower) show honeysuckle sharing a vase with several other flowers, including the very expensive tulips that resulted in Tulipomania [2]. 

In addition to the power of honeysuckle in giving pleasure and in folklore, the plant is used by humans and other animals. Infusions can be made from honeysuckle flowers and the berries contain chemicals that reduce inflammation after topical application [3], providing an explanation for their use in folk remedies. In addition to these anthropocentric uses, the nectar provides a source of energy for many insects, as described above, and the leaves are the sole diet of the white admiral butterfly [4] that can be seen occasionally in woodland clearings where honeysuckle abounds. 

Such lovely plants – such a beautiful scent! 

 

[1] Steve Roud (2006) The Penguin Guide to the Superstitions of Britain and Ireland. London, Penguin Books. 

[2] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2020/05/monkeys-and-tulipomania.html  

[3] Marco Rafael, Lillian Barros, Ana Maria Carvalho, Isabel C. F. R. Ferreira (2011) Topical anti-inflammatory plant species: Bioactivity of Bryonia dioica, Tamus communis and Lonicera periclymenum fruits. Industrial Crops and Products 34: 1447-1454. 

[4] https://butterfly-conservation.org/butterflies/white-admiral

  

 

Sources of the illustrations of paintings (in the order shown): 

Devis - http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/207802 

Bristowe - https://wikioo.org/paintings.php?refarticle=AQUHJS&titlepainting=Lady%20with%20Honeysuckle&artistname=Ethel%20Susan%20Graham%20Bristowe  

Rubens - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Peter_Paul_Rubens_-_Rubens_en_Isabella_Brant_in_de_Kamperfoelie_Bower.jpg  

Chowne - https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/honeysuckle-46448  

Ruysch - https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/rachel-ruysch-flowers-in-a-glass-vase-with-a-tulip  

De Heem -  https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/jan-davidsz-de-heem-flowers-in-a-glass-bottle-on-a-marble-plinth

 

 

 

 

Joining a “pick and shovel” road gang

I had the good fortune of being brought up in Torbay and was thus able to ramble around the wonderful South Devon coast and countryside, sometimes during long walks and sometimes on shorter walks after journeys by train or bus [1]. The joy brought by exploring nature offset what was, at times, an unhappy childhood, marked by the illness, and death, of my mother and the serious illness of my father. Always a sensitive child, I was shy and rather sheltered, but that’s not to say I didn’t rebel. Unlike the other members of my family, I was not a Christian, enjoyed rock and roll (especially the Everly Brothers), and developed a strong interest in Bob Dylan and the folk movement that was such a feature of the early 1960s. 

At the end of a chequered career at Torquay Boys’ Grammar School, it was time to apply to University and I was pleased to receive an offer from the University of Reading that, at the time, was strong in both marine and freshwater biology; the subjects I most wanted to study. There was no guarantee that I would achieve the grades required, especially as I always performed badly in examinations, and I had no contingency plans if I failed to gain a place. 

Leaving school in July 1965, I had to wait for the examination results to be published to find out whether I would be going to Reading, so needed a summer job. I had worked previously as a Christmas postman and had washed dishes in fish and chip restaurants (no dishwashing machines then – and chips were made into an old bath tub!). Fortunately, a good schoolfriend, Trev, suggested that I join him in working for SWEB (South Western Electricity Board), where one of his family was employed. A quarry firm wanted unhindered movement through the country lanes, as their usual route was to be blocked by SWEB roadworks. All traffic was to be monitored going into, and coming from, the diversion that was put in place and, to achieve this objective, Trev and I had a walkie-talkie each and he became “Devlec Red 1” while I was “Devlec Red 2”. We were given red flags and, whenever a lorry was “in section”, we called each other, and leapt out to stop all other traffic until the lorry appeared past one, or other, of us.  We were not as efficient as we should have been and there were occasional failures of the system, so it was not something I enjoyed very much. 

My first six weeks with SWEB were very different and left a strong impression on me: it was a time for which I am still very grateful. I was assigned to work in a gang using picks and shovels to dig trenches and then pulling in cables, re-filling the trenches and then covering the whole with tarmac, tamped down with a “Wacker”. A job lasted several days and each morning began for me with a bus ride to the depot to meet up with the gang, get into the lorry and then drive off to the job. Ernie, the ganger, who was a dour and unsmiling character rode in the cab and the rest of us climbed into the back, sitting on benches that were part of a removable shelter that was then taken off the lorry and served as our “home” for the rest of the day. I cannot find any pictures of one of the SWEB lorries of the time, but ours was similar to the one shown below. It is easy to imagine the ropes being released and the canvas shelter being slid off the back of the lorry of this army truck, just as we did when we reached our destination.

I was very unsure of myself on the first day. I knew that I was reasonably fit, but I had never used a pick and shovel and had a lot to learn about technique. Ernie paired me with Bill who was in his early forties, looked tough, and had probably done a few tours in the Royal Marines. His first comment was “why am I always given the rubbish” and, as can be imagined, that didn’t boost my confidence. It was time to just get on with it and, with guidance from Bill, that’s what I did; with Bill and I taking it in turns with the pick and the shovel (he was later to advise me to slow down a bit…). There were morning and afternoon breaks for strong tea, usually brewed up by Wally, and we brought our own lunches that were consumed with more tea. Breaks were occasions for playing 5 card brag and this was, again, a new experience for me and I learned quickly what was meant by a prial and also “Aqua on the belt” (Ace, King and Queen of the same suit). 

Other members of the gang were Frank, who drove the lorry, Pete, who operated the “gun” (pneumatic drill) and there were others whose names I have, regretfully, forgotten after 56 years. What was clear was that I was accepted by all and I really liked, and respected, my workmates. They probably knew that I was taken on to be “Devlec Red 2” in the weeks to come, and they were certainly aware that this was just a vacation job for me (although I would hope to have stayed on should I fail to get into university). Nevertheless, they were great colleagues to have and I had a happy time working with them – and learning from them. The only negative comment that I remember came after Ernie asked me to accompany Frank to get a supply of tarmac; this involving a drive of several miles through the countryside to the depot at Buckfastleigh. This perk was referred to as “having a Rodney” and Bill didn’t seem best pleased that I was selected for the job. 

When A-level results came out, I knew that I would be leaving the gang and going to university in distant Reading. They were very pleased for me and I know that their feelings were genuine. Although I have never had a sense of privilege and entitlement, I knew that I was fortunate in having opportunities that my mates in the gang did not, and was grateful for their open friendliness. After I left, I came across the gang digging a trench in Torbay Road in Paignton and we were all pleased to see each other and chatted happily. It was the last time I met with a group that had a big impact on me – my first experience of the “real world” (apart from my other part-time jobs). I still look back fondly to those few weeks and wonder what became of Ernie, Frank, Bill, Wally, Pete and the others. I also wonder whether they remembered me with the same affection that I felt for them?

 

[1] Roger S Wotton (2020) Walking with Gosse: Natural History, Creation and Religious Conflicts. e-book.