We have been here for two days now, both cursing the weather somewhat as well as savouring the chance to wander around on land and explore the very pretty national park of Ängsö in full bloom.

The first day we were pretty much stuck on board all day. It was sunny in the morning after the night's rain, but once we had showered and organised ourselves it began to cloud over then rain - at times it was a solid downpour very much like the last time we were here.

The second day was considerably brighter. It still rained in patches, but there was enough of a break between the showers to allow us to take the dinghy to land and walk on the island. What a superb array of flowers were out in the fields. These ones are called "night and day" and I like these simple and modest little flowers so much.




I immediately felt the urge to quote Shakespeare when I saw them.



A little further along I spied big clumps of giant bluebells (though I have no idea what that white fluffy thing in the background might be. A fungus, perhaps?)




I really love all wild flowers and especially the wild meadow flowers you find in Sweden. Aren't they simply the best - just breathtakingly beautiful? I think they are far more interesting than simply an expanse of green grass. When I first saw this meadow, I had a childish urge to dive right in it, to roll around, to lie there and watch the clouds drift by while chewing on a stalk, in short to enjoy it to my heart's content. But then I thought: "Hmm... I'd better not, I don't think they would appreciate me rolling around in this gorgeous meadow that was so painstakingly created for my enjoyment". So I didn't do the rolling thingy, but let me tell you, it wasn't easy to resist.




Apart from the bluebells, we found plenty of buttercups, ox-eye daisies, red clover, hawksbit and hay rattle. The floral splendour of the island has been created by farming. While we marvel at their beauty, that was not the reason they were made. Instead it was for a more practical reason - the need for winter fodder for cattle.

According to tradition, the meadows are cut in July-August when the plants have gone to seed. When it is cut, the hay is left in the sun to dry for a while, then raked together. This drying gives the grasses and herbs a chance to set seed before they are gathered.




Back at the boat we had lunch and watched the boats arrive and tie up at the guest pier. Later a boat came in and headed over towards where we were moored, which was most unusual as we find people generally reluctant to lie anchor. What horrified us was that there were several loud, whining children on board, two dinghies and assorted water toys plus the unmistakable raucous grating voices of Americans - the really annoying Americans with the strident Fran Drescher accent. "We'll have to leave if they anchor here" said Lars-Göran and we watched as they looked at the chart, pointed our way and the wind brought snatches of their conversation and the children grizzling towards us. They tried to anchor rather close to our boat, so we started to stow things away and prepare to leave. However their anchor kept dragging, so after several tries they became irate and decided to go elsewhere. "Oh, how sad" I said, with all the insincerity I could muster and we both breathed a deep sigh of relief.




In the end, the boat anchored in this very selfish and potentially dangerous spot. Selfish, because it was right in the middle of the narrow entrance to the bay and every boat needing to come through there had to squeeze past them. Dangerous, because that sign clearly states "Warning. Electricity Cable. Anchoring Forbidden" What knobs!

In the afternoon, we went to the northern part of the island to look around. In spite of its name (Ängsö = Meadow Island), only about a sixth of the island consists of meadows. The rest is dominated by forest, some of it conifers but also quite a large area of leafy woods, some of the trees being quite old and gnarled.




In the pasture areas to the north and west of the island we found fields of a pretty flower that I believe is cornflower (blåklint). There is nothing quite like the blue of a cornflower - so called for their propensity to sprout up in corn and wheat fields. They are also sometimes called "bachelor's buttons" in English because they traditionally were tucked into a young man's lapel to indicate he was in love. I love the fragile blue flowers which look like a tuft of fairyfloss on lanky, sprawling stems.




We strolled along pathways admiring the fences made from the timber of the nearby forests. These are broad leafy forests, with fresh leaves sprouting on all of the trees, breaking the bright sunshine which fell through in a dappled pattern to the moist forest floor. It is really a most unusual island with its mixture of landscapes and it is no wonder that people are keen to preserve it.




A little further to the north, near the bay of Svartviken, I found myself in a shoulder high field of frothy cow parsley. I like all meadow flowers, but I have a special fondness for Cow Parsley (Hundkex in Swedish - literally dog biscuit!). I think it might be because it was the first Swedish wildflower I learned a name.




We continued on through woods and pastures. While it is forbidden to pick the flowers, one is allowed to pick berries and we were in luck as we greedily gorged ourselves on blueberries, wild raspberries, wild strawberries and blackcurrants. Just as well we had done so much walking to help burn off all of those extra kilojoules. As you can see, I'm really dressed for Swedish summer - rainjacket and wellies!




The pastures on Ängsö are still grazed in the same way they were in the early days, with cattle let out onto the cut meadow to do complementary grazing. Since the cows choose which herbs to eat, the pasture land develops different flora to the meadows which are cut. Apparently on this small island alone, over 400 different species of flowering plants have been found. All because of grazing and hay-making activities.

It is a picturesque island, even on an overcast day and the view across the fields out to the water where Fiona is anchored made a perfect place to stop for a coffee break.




After dinner, the golden evening light made the island look so very inviting, that we went back again for a walk, confining ourselves to the fields and marshes around Hemudden. A large section of the island is a bird protection area where enrty is prohibited between February and September. We read that it is mainly to protect the breeding areas of the birds of prey. The meadow we stopped at was one facing the sea with a bird protection area to the east of it. I was standing by one of the trees, reading about the flowers in the park when I heard a dry rustle above me and looked up to see a magnificent white.tailed sea eagle take off, glide past Lars-Göran and Lambi, soar out over the water, then come sweeping back towards us. It was one of the most impressive and moving sights I have ever witnessed. What a truly majestic bird.




Rather worryingly, I saw it eye off Lambi, so I insisted that Lars-Göran carry her just in case she was too tempting a morsel. I'm not kidding, this bird was enormous and picking up Lambi would have been child's play. Also rather worrying was that I saw there were ormvråk on the island. While I know it's a buzzard in English, the literal translation of ormvråk is "snake hawk". So I wonder what they eat? I hope there are no snakes here.

Lars-Göran of course laughed at me and wandered off with Lambi to chat to the cows who seemed quite responsive to him.




We then looked around the farmhouse nestled in its own private little bay just west of the meadow. A family lives in the home and takes care of the park and the animals here. It is a beautiful place to live in, surrounded as it is with meadows, sea, woods and so much life.




Down near the main guest pier the sun was setting in a golden ball, lighting up the small coastal patches of wildflowers. I never want to leave! But leave we must as we have lingered here long enough and must now move on.




We don't know where we'll go next, just follow the wind I think. The weather forecast is again nothing to rip your nightie over which is becoming the distinctive pattern this year. It will be a mixed day tomorrow, then rain, rain, rain again. We had thought to go into Stockholm itself to see the Tall Ships, but are quickly tiring of the thought if it's going to rain for days on end. Where's the fun in that? Still, we'll wait and see what tomorrow brings. Tonight I'll be happily dreaming of rolling in a summer meadow.