Sheila Billingsley has sent us a poem about the great golden cloud that descends on Southern England and elsewhere at this time of year – oilseed rape, a member of the cabbage family and the source of much of the vegetable oil on supermarket and kitchen shelves. It’s actually a staple of our diet, keeps us alive, so deserves a poem of its own.
Oilseed Rape. Do you then reflect the sun ? Out-- buttering the buttercups. You gild our fields and hillsides With your glory! Oilseed Rape, An in-your-face no-nonsense name. Your down-to-earth mothering To feed yet glorify the earth. There must be-----somewhere---- In God's eternal memory, Another, golden name.
SB February 2021
Ines’s foreshortened view of Canterbury crosses a patch of bright yellow oilseed rape, or colza as the French call it. I don’t know that colza is quite the golden name that Sheila was looking for; it won’t catch on!
The photograph above is by Myrabella, and shows a crop of colza – or oilseed rape – in Burgundy, France.