Solstice bloom

I wasn't going to blip this as it's not a good photo  but having delved into the St John's wort family I got carried away.

Walking by a sunny bank my attention was attracted by the bright red buds like arterial blood spots - almost as if some small creature had been snatched and savaged nearby - until I realised  the colour was all the plant's. Which,  I could see,  was a member of the St John's wort family (Hypericum) but I needed to do some research to identify the species as Slender St John's Wort,  Hypericum pulchrum.

Hypericums bloom around the summer solstice, June 24th being St John's Day - the day of his nativity not his death by decapitation which must indeed have been bloody - but  naturally midsummer celebrations long  preceded the Christian era. The plants are rich in folklore and ancient herbalism, and remain in use today as an anti-depressant. The generic name Hypericum is thought to derive from the tradition of  placing sprigs above holy pictures (ikons) to ward of evil spirits but there are very many old names which reference its protective agency.




St John's Wort 
by Sean Hewitt

Named for a man who carries his own head
on a platter for a day when the sun bears
its light over the land so slowly, so measuredly
that the night crouches back and waits. A token
of love, of patience, of the will to lift the mind
outside itself and let it rest. Let it heal. Alone,
I remembered this little herb, the spikes
of the flower, frill of stamen, something akin
to happiness, its bright star, its tiny play
at hope, its way of lifting through the grass - 
and I brought it to you, a light
to illumine the dark caves of your eyes. At the door
of the ward, being searched, the nurse
took from me my gathering of flowers.
I found you on the bed, staring, still in shock.
Bringing no gift, I took your head
in my empty hands like a world and held it.