To my own chickweed

 We regularly applaud the peculiar immortality of poets who perform and die young but the achivement of youthful botanists had eluded me until I tiptoed around Thomas Edmondston's eponymous chickweed last week.

On the northernmost bit of Britain, the roof of the Queen's realm, are the serpentine rocks of Unst where the Edmonston Chickweed uniquely grows.

It does not grow very big, or very bright, but at this time of the year, when the puffins have departed and the otters are somewhat...