#edgeland

[aekirouan]

Now that's a large bee.

[impoliticwestie]

Political Archaeology, Outskirts of Slavonski Brod, Croatia, 2025.

[rherlotshadow]

The hedge at the edge of the wood

[haxanbroker]

Crayford Marshes, South London, September 2019.

[brownhillsbob]

#365daysofbiking Ubiquitous:

May 13th - It’s cow parsley time again: This prolific edgeland and hedgerow dweller is a relative of the carrot family, and is plentiful everywhere I go.

Sometimes mistaken for Queen Anne’s lace or the truly horrible, much taller giant hogweed, cow parsley or keck is an innocuous, edible and some consider medicinal plant that tastes a little like chervil.

The white flowerheads make for a gorgeous, if very overlooked display at this time of year. A pretty and misunderstood plant.

This journal is moving home. Find out more by clicking here.

[benjaminjborley]

Church Hill, Exeter, 2018

[underpaidgenius]

Rob Cowen, Where Nature Gets to Run Amok

A plan to run a road through a patch of open, wild land on the outskirts of town reveals the transitory beauty of life on the edge.

Beautiful prose about connection with the scrub scraps of wildness just around the corner in suburbia:

I discovered my edgeland a few years ago on New Year’s Eve after moving back to my home county of Yorkshire in the north of England following a decade living in London. My wife, a London girl, had chosen the town of Harrogate, 180 miles north, because of its access to theaters, cultural pulse and coffee shops. But I’d visited it only a handful of times. We had planned to relocate together, but her job then kept her in the capital, so I found myself suddenly living alone in a strange town, in a strange house, in the depths of winter. All the maps I’d navigated my life by seemed redundant; my world was stacked up in boxes in an empty hallway.

Looking for the nearest open space was instinctive, but to my surprise it didn’t turn out to be one of the ornate gardens or parks of Harrogate’s center but a patch of vacant land a mile the other way, strewn with pylons and threaded with the varicose vein of an ancient river. Like me, the edgeland seemed caught between states, lost somewhere between past and present, and I felt an immediate sense of alignment with it.

[...]

To walk into such places daily is to be delivered into the possibility of escape — from ourselves, our fears and worries and the increasing madness of this human world. To do so reminds us that we are part of a greater and more beautiful planet than we often take the time to remember. And right now we need that as surely as we need anything.

[celluloidwickerman]

(via Dérives: Odds and Ends)