... or navelwort.
Turns out this stuff is edible, supposedly with a flavour somewhere between lettuce and mangetout peas, which doesn't sound bad. All this time I've been living surrounded by it and I never knew, Richard Mabey doesn't mention it either. It may be diuretic, however, as many comestible wild plants are. For some reason we got the idea into our heads it was called stone pennywort, which actually sounds prettier, I think, though navelwort is also good and very descriptive of its form, which has always appealed to me as being almost closer to that of a larger-than-life lichen. The tumbling repeating circles of it have a rather art nouveau look, and I think it has been used as a design motif.
Anyway, that's it for a Saturday night post. Off now for my weekly rendez-vous with Clint Eastwood, for whose westerns I have lately conceived an unusual enthusiasm, and the last glass in the bottle.
Wheels squeak into motion
4 hours ago