I remember my late and much missed village friend, Heather, telling me that what I thought were primroses were in fact cowslips.

One year, on the Bolnhurst primrose walk, I learnt that children in this neighbouring village used to be given the day off school to collect baskets of cowslips. They were made into wine and the sale of the wine supplemented the meagre farm labourers wages of their fathers. There are recipes on the internet for cowslip wine but I imagine that it is illegal to pick the wild flowers.