Beside the lichen-encrusted churchyard wall, a robin sings from the dark heart of a yew, its clear notes rising above the gruff calls of nesting rooks. Along the path, a bank of buttery primroses glows beside the bright stars of lesser celandine, offering early forage to the first pollen-dusted solitary bee. Across the gravestones, small points of colour are beginning to appear. St Mary’s churchyard stirs in readiness for the annual Bainton primrose festival, when villagers gather on Palm Sunday to celebrate this quiet herald of spring.
The primrose has long symbolised renewal. In earlier times, landowners would open their woods on Good Friday so that parishioners could gather the scented flowers for Easter decorations. Here in Bainton, their abundance owes much to a thoughtful former churchwarden who delayed mowing until early June, allowing the plants to set and shed seed. Since then, primroses have spread beyond the churchyard and on to the verges of this Fen‑edge village.
Primroses bear two distinct forms of flower. In “pin-eyed” blooms, the stigma is held above the anthers; in “thrum‑eyed” flowers, it sits lower – an arrangement that promotes cross-pollination. Charles Darwin was intrigued by this dimorphism and demonstrated that crossing the two forms yields significantly more seed. The plants hybridise readily with related garden primulas, creating a gentle spectrum of colour, from pure white through blush pink to deep magenta.
The grassland flora is rich too. Kneeling on the mossy sward, I notice leaves of ox-eye daisy, lady’s bedstraw, burnet-saxifrage, wild strawberry and hoary plantain – species once commonplace here, now far less so. Among them are plants from farther afield: Balkan anemones, eastern sowbread and Muscari (grape hyacinth), placed in remembrance of loved ones.
The conservation charity Caring for God’s Acre champions the ecological and cultural value of burial grounds such as this – quiet refuges for wildlife within the heart of the community. Bainton’s festival grew from the same spirit of care. It was first organised in 2022 by the nature-loving vicar, the Rev Gary Alderson, supported by an enthusiastic group of parishioners. Since then, it has become a much-loved fixture in the local calendar. Long may these flowers continue to draw people together each spring.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024, is available now at guardianbookshop.com
