Summer's lease

Orchard-lipped, loose-jointed, purplish, indolent flowers
With a ripe smell of peaches, like a girl's breath through lipstick
Delicate and coarse in the weedlap of late summer rivers
Dishevelled, weak-stemmed, common as brambles...


 Maybe its the blowsy extravagance of Himalayan Balsam as it sprawls along the waterways, as well its explosive method of seed dispersal, its musky odour and its generous nectar production, that evokes the sexual imagery in Anne Stevenson's poem.
Bees love it but nature conservationists detest it and organise military-style*  'balsam bashing' events (which probably do more harm than good in controlling its spread). Like its fellow 'aliens', Japanese Knotweed and Giant Hogweed, Impatiens grandulifera was introduced as a handsome garden novelty in 1839 and was subsequently spread quite deliberately by people who admired its ground coverage and enjoyed its silk-petalled flowers  (which resemble an old-fashioned  policeman's helmet in shape and range in colour from palest rose to fierce magenta.) 

The upside of this helmeted invader is its massive attraction for honey bees.. Here, they were slipping blissfully in and out of the open-throated blooms,  covering themselves in the silvery pollen that bee-keepers recognize as the signature of HB visitation. Flowering late in the year,  it provides sustenance  that may help to support the hives through another long winter.



*More about that.

Extra image: a wider view