Ever since I was a child I have loved wildflowers. I have fond memories of the woods in Sussex, where I grew up, filling with primroses early in the year and carpeted with bluebells in the spring.
I always used their nicknames - "eggs and bacon" for birds-foot-trefoil (a native plant known for its yellow slipper-like petals) and "bread-and-cheese" for the young shoots of the British tree hawthorn, which my friends and I would eat. And pretend to like!
We picked rosehips from hedges too, which we split open to make itching powder, perfect for playground pranks.
But later in life, on my walks through the countryside, I began to notice dwindling numbers of wildflowers. I missed the grasslands, bursting with colour, that I'd so enjoyed in my childhood.
According to the charity Plantlife, approximately 97% of wildflower meadows have been lost across the UK since the 1930s, while species-rich grassland areas, which used to be a common sight, are now among the most threatened habitats.
