Marsh Marigold Quotes

Yarrow, alpine cinquefoil, a few paintbrush, yellow daisies, marsh marigold and penstemon were still blooming, though it was the third of September. I learned a new flower, king’s crown.

Marigold (Calendula)--- Herb of the Sun. Not a perennial. Apricot color like cosmos = rangy and tall, a weed. Calendula = composed. Loni's flower

A leaf, large and rough, a thorny stalk, blue flower. I borage bring courage. Than a saw-toothed leaf. Lemon balm. Soothe all troublesome care. Marigold---cureth the trembling of harte. Perhaps their medicine will cross through the cell walls of my drawing hand. The plants grow into a schematic, a garden, geometrically arranged. I consult the crackly herbals by my bed. Chamomile, catmint, sorrel. In Latin: Matricaria chamomilla, Nepeta X faassenii, Rumex acetosa. I get out of bed, retrieve my colored pencils, come back. The smell of earth fills the room. Root and flower and loam. Decay and regeneration. Mullein and comfrey, costmary, feverfew, betony. I sink into the earth, below verbena and lavender, descending as I draw.

Being a damp sort of place, weeds of all kinds flourished: all those plants which love water crowded round; giant dock, appearing not unlike the riverside plants of a tropical stream, with huge hairy columns for stalks as thick round as trees, with curious beetles and flies crawling about on the undersides of their green umbrella-like leaves, Fool’s Parsley, Bog Myrtle, Water Betony, Marsh Marigold, and huge buttercups.

The sun struck off the water with brilliant glints, while tiny black beetles crawled along stalks of spiny gorse. The pungency of sun-warmed thistle and marsh marigold mingled with the fecund smell of the river. Numbly she stared at the water, tracking the progress of a crested grebe as it paddled by industriously with a slimy clump of weed clamped in its beak.