Cowslip is back against the odds — and its wine ‘kicks like a mule’

I BELIEVE that one of the main reasons why we as individuals don’t try harder to tackle climate change is the sense of helplessness; that no matter the personal effort we make, it is dwarfed into obscurity by the massive damage being done elsewhere, say by China’s coalburning power plants.

But great oaks from little acorns grow. One example out of many that could be given is the turn-around in fortunes of one of our daintiest wildflowers, the cowslip.

Only a few short years ago, it seemed the cowslip was heading down the inevitable path to extinction taken by many species that were common in this country up to fairly recent times; other species are becoming increasingly rare, like the cuckoo, snipe and curlew.

As is often the case, its decline has been attributed to the intensification of agriculture, along with the use of herbicides on grass verges. The early flowering

(species name means ‘of spring’) is very important for wildlife, providing nectar for various insects, such as bees, beetles and butterflies.

However, they have recently become commonly included in wildflower seed mixes and are making a significant comeback, thanks mainly to the sowing of motorway verges and through various Tidy Town initiatives.

It also seems that the burnt brown strips along road verges and around the bases of roadside signs are less common, which is more good news. Well done to all concerned! Last year, I had noticed significant numbers of bainne bó buidhe (its lyrical Irish name) on my journey down the M7 from Laois to Limerick. But there is a far greater show this year, and last week, I came upon a whole ‘bonsai’ forest of them driving south on the M8.

The origin of the name cowslip is obscure but may derive from the old English for cow dung, because the plant was often found among cow manures. Its other names include palsywort, because it was supposed to be a good treatment for palsy and in strengthening the nerves.

Cowslips were once so abundant that they were picked in their hundreds and used to treat all sorts of ailments, from jaundice, to measles to sore fingers, while a record in the National Folklore School’s Collection says that “an ointment made with hog’s lard and the flowers of the cowslip restores youth”.

Another record in the same collection says that cowslip wine has “a kick like a mule”.

They were strongly associated with fairies, the flower said to be precious as a hiding place for their treasures.

It also has religious associations, a popular myth being about Saint Peter, the gatekeeper of Heaven.

The story goes that, one day, he heard a rumour that people were entering heaven through a secret back door instead of being accountable to him at the front entrance.

He became so angry that he dropped his keys, which fell to earth and instantly grew into a plant referred to as ‘key flower’, the pendant flowers suggesting a bunch of keys.

So, welcome back, the jolly flower of many childhoods.

Small victories such as the cowslip cannot offset the harm being done globally but they can fuel the much-needed hope required to keep up the fight.

We need to keep believing that our efforts are worthwhile, for the sake of our children and for future generations.

At an individual level, landowners can have more impact than any other group.

Instead of waiting for European leadership, maybe there are more instances of small changes that we could be doing that would improve the environmental balance within our own domains.

Everyone’s job is no-one’s job. We need to inform ourselves and try to make good decisions.

At the same time, when successes are achieved, they need greater recognition.