A quiet revolution is happening, and it's purple
First there is one crocus, then six, then a hundred and twenty. (Yes, I counted.) The wispy purple shoots provide a focal point on the bank beside our house. Multiplying faster than rabbits, in an matter of days, a small patch of bank no more than 3 square meters will be covered in hundreds of the tiny pale flowers.
Last year - our first year as countryside newcomers - we had low expectations for the walled bank outside our house, which had a previous life as a burial ground for all sorts - mugs, patterned plates, plastic bits, and the token whisky bottle (at least one of the previous owners had a penchant for cider; we still find cans everywhere).
At some point, our property’s exclusive rubbish tip was converted into a raised bank and retaining wall, making it rather more attractive. Digging around discarded rocks and the remnants of someone's detritus is unnecessarily sweaty work, but thankfully, wildflowers love the bed of thin soil, and go to work in it. Job done.