While Roger Federer was crushing Marin Cilic on the manicured lawns of Wimbledon yesterday, the dogs and I were ploughing through a jungle of not so manicured grass in the Hatton field. I had noticed that the yellow irises were now in bloom and I wanted a picture. Although the main path in the field is well trodden and cuts a channel through the long grass, the iris that I had set my sights on was among waist deep vegetation on the bank of the little burn which flows past the Hatton Mill. There is usually a path along here, but just now, in the lush July vegetation there was no sign of any path.

I forced my way through, followed tentatively by Poppy; Lily was having none of it, “You don’t expect me to go through that, with my new haircut and short legs!” she complained.
After a little persuasion and the odd treat we were all standing in front of my quarry, Iris Pseudacorus, or yellow flag iris to you and me. They grow very well in the boggy ground at the edge of the Hatton field.

  
I don’t know anything about grasses, other than that there are a lot of different types. The field just now has a faint purple tinge to it from this grass. I think it may well be Holcus lanatus, Yorkshire Fog. What I do know is I love the colour and the way it moves in the breeze.

On our way home we stopped for a little while beside the little burn on the upstream side of the bridge on Hatton Farm road to admire the pink wild geraniums in full bloom beside the horse chestnut tree. I wonder if I will get any autumn pictures here this year?