When we had lived in London, I had had no appreciation of wildflowers, thinking of them simply as weeds which sought to take over buildings which had been demolished, and failing to share the stunning colours of those which had been carefully planted in our public parks. But since we had moved to the country, I had learnt to love the wildflowers which proliferated in the hedgerows and fields around the village. They might not be as showy as the ones I grew in our garden, but their delicate beauty spoke to me each time we went for a walk.