Williamson's Weekly Nature Notes

IT was called the picnic thistle. Generations of families taking to the hills on Sunday afternoon for a summer picnic on the Downs made contact.

Nowadays it only has one English name, all that is allowed in the books apart from the Latin name of course. So stemless thistle describes that other notable feature of this queer little plant of the chalk and limestone hills.

Because it has no stem you can hardly notice this snake in the grass. Not till you sit down to take your ease after that long struggle up the slopes laden with lemonade, cold meats, bread, butter, lettuce, radishes, scones and jam, and a big heavy thermos of tea.

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In olden days that would have been replaced by a nickel-plated spirit stove and a large bottle of water with several pinches of tea screwed up in a corner of newspaper. Somebody else would be carrying the china mugs and saucers.

By the 1930s they would have been replaced by little lightweight mugs with handles together with plates and a small jug for the milk brought along in a nickel-plated copper milk can.

The children would have been entrusted with the table cloth that would be laid out across the grass. Others might have to carry a new-fangled folding camp stool for father to sit on. Most people however liked just to sit on the grass, then after the picnic to lie flat out and snooze the afternoon away.

Those in the know would scan the ancient downland turf of Sussex, Kent or Hampshire with care before lowering their posteriors.

For full feature see West Sussex Gazette August 6