There is a small boggy valley of old pasture at the centre of the village, a Wildlife Trust nature reserve that is remarkable for what has preserved it: a non-native flower more aligned with municipal parks.
Inkpen crocus field is where spring happens first. A rare example of unimproved, unploughed meadow (the sort we’ve lost 97% of, since this column existed), situated between houses and farmland. It’s rich in wildflowers such as heath spotted-orchid, devil’s-bit scabious, meadow saxifrage, betony and pignut, and with thick old hedgerows and a spring-fed brook in its fold, it’s often the first place I see bumblebees and brimstone butterflies.
