A patchwork of flowers

As 'mini' gave way to 'maxi' and the 'summer of love' became a free-for-all; as the 60's became the 70's - the Laura Ashley idyll was born. 'The decade that taste forgot' was yet to happen and fashion, while taking brave futuristic strides, was also in reflective mood. Thus it was that country whimsy - the dainty prints of yesteryear - came to the high street to jostle with the more cutting-edged 'Chelsea Girl' - although I don't think the term 'cutting-edged' had been invented yet.

The fey fair shepherdess look had a certain appeal - usually to the wrong shaped person - and vast smock clad maidens were to be seen billowing in town centres and on university campuses alike (I'm not sure we ever used the term 'campus' then either). They dreamed no doubt of drifting through hay meadows strewn with wild flowers, walking hand in hand with some handsome swain whilst tending a snowy lamb. The Fairport Convention was heard in our land. How we rocked to the sound of folk....For some this was a reality but for the rest of us - well we could at least dress the dream.

This early and magnificent spring with its abundance of sweet wild flowers reminds me of those innocent days before punk gave us all a timely kick up the butt. On roadside and in hedge bottom myriad sprigs and sprays of yellow and blue and white and pink are pushing their way up through the growing greens of leaf and grass towards the light.

I pass by, photograph their transient beauty and stitch my own flowery patchwork.