A cow parsley wedding

We got married in the month of May sometime last century. It was a small, modest event although the ceremony did take place in a church (for sacramental reasons rather than social ostentation). My brother-in-law was tasked by my mother to pick large quantities of cow parsley which were then in full flower. He thought it a bit odd to pick this hedgerow weed but did what he was asked to do. 

My mother died a year ago. Arguably, her finest achievement, along with my father, was to bring up ten well-mannered children. She had, perhaps understandably in the circumstances, a somewhat unfulfilled artistic eye. All the window sills the length of the church on both sides were decorated with the lacey blooms of white cow parsley. It was a very impressive sight. So simple; so impactful.

As Paul Evans in The Guardian Country Diary column once called it: now "is the cow parsley moment, its blooms making foam waves against hawthorn hedges along the road". I always look forward to this annual decoration.

Because I am deficient in technical ability as well as hardwear, I've taken the
liberty of using this fine photograph of roadside cow parsley by Pete Birch.