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poliphilo I was sitting out on the patio in the cool of the evening and there was a snapping noise coming from my left- tiny, irregular, continuous- like small arms fire. Eventually I got up to see what it was. At first I thought it was coming from behind the gorse bushes- like some bird was doing it- but it wasn't, it was coming from the bushes themselves- and was the sound of the pods that had once been flowers popping open to release the velvety seeds inside.
"Well" I thought, "I didn't know that was a thing..." and then I remembered John Davidson's poem "The Runnable Stag"- the first line of which is "When pods went pop in the broom, green broom" and realised I'd known it since forever but discounted it- because who'd have thought that poets might have anything to tell us about Nature?
P.S. I've been told since first posted this that broom and gorse are two different plants. Drat! Still they do look very similar- and both have pods that pop.
"Well" I thought, "I didn't know that was a thing..." and then I remembered John Davidson's poem "The Runnable Stag"- the first line of which is "When pods went pop in the broom, green broom" and realised I'd known it since forever but discounted it- because who'd have thought that poets might have anything to tell us about Nature?
P.S. I've been told since first posted this that broom and gorse are two different plants. Drat! Still they do look very similar- and both have pods that pop.
