Take a walk on Wightman's wild side

Sometimes a book has a strong influence on you. It keeps working away at you long after you've closed it. One such book for me, I've come to realise, is Alexandra Horowitz's On Looking. It's not a perfect book (here's my review of it from some time back) but there's something about its basic premise, that everyone sees a neighbourhood differently depending on their interests, skills and expertise, age or even whether they're a human being, that keeps coming back to me. 

Recently, I've begun some new volunteer work that involves me looking closely at tiny moving things, picking up rocks, peering at flowers and trying to name everything I see, all in the company of small children. Needless to say, I love it!

Very quickly, I'm feeling a new set of skills developing and a new, although decidedly patchy, knowledge of my neighbourhood based on what is growing or living wild. I've even started writing short pieces under the 'wild in harringay' tag. 

Today, as I was sauntering along Wightman Road on my way to the library, I realised that I was now treating this walk which I have done dozens of times, maybe even hundreds of times, in a very different way.

Once upon a time, when I was #wheeliebinliz I would have seen overflowing bins, dumped rubbish, uneven pavements and pavement parking - all of which would have had me writing furious emails to THE COUNCIL (note, I still do this). As I grew more interested in gardening at the front of houses, I started noting and photographing well-kept front gardens, seeing what people were growing and how. A growing admiration for modern architecture meant I would get excited about glimpsing the great roof of St Paul, Harringay and photographing it in different seasons. As my interests changed, developed and my expertise in some things grew so I kept seeing that little stretch of Wightman road between Warham and Burgoyne with fresh eyes. 

So what did this latest pair of eyes spot as I strolled along?

As I passed an untidy elder on the corner of Wightman/Mattison, I realised I was looking at a ladybird nursery. Armed only with a phone, I could be seen sticking my head under leaves and awkwardly trying to snap the early stages of ladybird growth. There were lots of these

and these.

Crossing over, I passed under this glorious blossom (anyone know what it is?) which was buzzing with bees.

After a very pleasant hour with Vicky the head librarian at Stroud Green and Harringay and a light lunch at Wightman's oasis, Moka, I headed home again. The sun had come out and, having spent some time mulling over my trip up the road, I started to look at the gardens which were wild and free. 

It's a bold move to give your garden over to ground elder or alkanet (not one I'm ready to take) but, somehow on Wightman with its low walls and high gardens, it can work and the bees and bugs love it. I stood for several minutes watching several species of bee and hover fly crawling all over the alkanet

A mown lawn is no friend to wildlife. Milverton's front gardens are a riot of daisies, dandelions and herb robert and I bet the insects are loving it. 

Even if there is only concrete and brick, nature will find a way to colonise. Strictly speaking, yellow corydalis is an escapee from gardens and originally comes from the foothills of the Alps but is now considered wild in this country. The walls of Wightman recalling the sides of mountains it grows out of cracks and crevices

Meanwhile, little campanula will find its way into any hole in a wall. Campanula is also known as Canterbury Bells as it is said to resemble the bells on the bridles of the horses of 12th century pilgrims riding to Thomas A Becket's shrine in Canterbury. In the language of flowers, it represents gratitude. I'm certainly always grateful to see it in flower.

There are lots of lovely rose bushes on Wightman but spare a thought for our native rose, the humble but still lovely dog rose. This one was shyly entwined around a rather gloomy (probably self-seeded) sycamore.

Not far from Pemberton and one last stop at the house on the corner with some impressive shrubbery. The pretty pink flowers are alive with bees.

And a little cheat as it wasn't spotted on Wightman but as I paused at the river on Pemberton.

I spotted this mayfly sunning itself on the bridge. The life of the mayfly isn't quite as short as we think although by the stage they are above, there's probably only a few hours left of life.

All streets have their ecosystem but because of Wightman's raised gardens and the "untidiness" of some of them, this stretch of N4 truly is a living Wightman, ideal for a nature walk.