With their delicate white and yellow petals, primroses are perfect as a gift for someone special. Just be sure to buy them and not pick them from the wild
The first wild flowers I picked – in the days when it was still OK to do so – were for Mothering Sunday. They are forever tied for me with Lilian Drabble. Lilian was my foster mum. She gave my brother and me a new home, and a new life with her husband Dudley, our new dad. Lilian loved primroses.
In our first year she’d walk us to school. I was five, Christopher was six. If the sea was out it was a shortish walk along the tidal road or the stepping stones, past the seaweed to the sound of gulls. If the tide was in, it was a longer walk, up hills, through the farm, past the stream, the high Devon hedges, blackbirds, mistle thrush. In the spring there were hazel catkins, wild orchids, bluebells and primrose. In the autumn, we’d gather blackberries for Dad’s favourite pie.