Slow living in Hemingway’s footsteps
It’s almost impossible for the untrained eye to differentiate between a common wildflower and Pulmonaria officinalis.
“This one?”
“No. You have to find one that has a slightly tougher leaf.”
“This one?”
“No. Here, see this? Can you tell the difference?”
I squint my eyes and look closely at the little purple blossom Vesna is holding up for me, its petals fragile and soft, the colouring bordering on pink, its stalks and leaves rigid and covered in thin spiky hair, shielding the delicate flower against crawling insect predators.
Slovenians are particularly good at picking wild herbs, whereas my ability to recognise certain herbs is limited to the labelled variety on the supermarket shelves. Focused and determined, I run my fingers across a patch of dense shrubbery and locate a plant much like what Vesna had described.
“Look, I got one that has spiky hair!” I dash towards her with what I think may be Pulmonaria officinalis, more commonly known as lungwort. A slight giggle from my guide indicates that I still haven’t got it right.
“I think that one has too much hair.”
We have been foraging in the meadows along the heel of Korada Mountain in Slovenia, where
