When you spot a cormorant, and especially a colony of cormorants, you know you’ve spotted something a little unusual.* This is not because they are especially rare, it is because they have a singular character about them. Their black plumage has that iridescent sheen that is associated with oil slicks, and their long necks and hooked bills can give them a rather prehistoric, reptilian feel. It is an incredible swimmer (see video below), resembling underwater more a fish than a bird. One of the great UK conservation success stories of the past few years has been the improvements to the water quality in our rivers and waterways. This has helped to attract cormorants, once again, inland – much to the anger of anglers!
Nettle – חָרוּל (charul), סִרְפָּד (sirpad) and possibly קִמּוֹשׂ (qimmos)
Over the years my attitude to nettles has changed. As a lad, they were ubiquitous, lurking menaces that, no matter what I did to avoid them, inevitably stung me and sent me racing to find a nearby dock leaf. Moreover, they were found in areas that I tended to associate with the least conducive for play; those boggy, shadowy, overgrown areas, thick with snail and slug slime. In those days they were just ‘stingers’ and the places they were found were the strange and dank-smelling ‘stingers patch.’ However, more recently, I have grown more and more attracted to these places and, particularly on hot, dry days, actively seek out these proud plants with their delicate, understated flower heads, and their heady, fresh scent. When so much is appearing to struggle for life, it is good to find something that celebrates its hardiness and its tenacious and spiky hold on life.