I’ve returned to the limestone grassland slopes above Portland Bill to settle a score with bastard-toadflax (Thesium humifusum). Earlier in the week, my eyes more accustomed to scanning vast seascapes for guillemots, razorbills and gannets, I hunted for this semi-parasitic plant among the vetches, bird’s-foot trefoil, yellow wort and eyebright. But though I was in an area where it’s known to grow, bastard-toadflax refused to be found. My error – it turns out – was one of magnitude.
So today my approach is lower and slower. Nose down, bottom up. From this undignified position, it takes only a few minutes to locate the inconspicuous straggler. It’s smaller than I’d imagined. A low-growing perennial with trailing stems and narrow leaves, it scatters white starbursts left and right as it weaves through the vegetation. Through my hand lens, I can see that the 3mm-wide star-flowers enclose five stamens with creamy anthers and a white stigma floating in a green pool – actually a short tube from which the petal-like sepals arise.
