THIS morning's daily walk along the lanes near my home was blessed with a wonderful display of wild flowers but prominent among them was a variety of thistles. Many will have been in bloom since July and, hopefully, will continue into September.

I spotted three different types within a few yards while nearby was a clump of those purple thistle-lookalikes called hardheads which are otherwise known as lesser knapweed.

What is surprising about thistles and knapweed is that they belong to the daisy family. This is a huge group of plants which, in addition to varieties of thistles and knapweed, includes dandelions, golden rod, feverfew, mayweed, yarrow, coltsfoot and a host of our favourite wild flowers, not forgetting some domestic species.

One of the thistles upon my route bore yellow heads while the other two sported purple flowers. This yellow specimen was the carline thistle which likes the limestone land in our area but which is persistent enough in some fields to be a nuisance to farmers. It can grow up to 2ft or more in height (60cm or so) with several heads and lots of prickly leaves extending from its stem.

To its credit, however, the vicious-looking spines are quite soft and I am told that some flower-arrangers like to use this thistle in their creations.

There is a lovely story about this thistle's odd name. It is nothing to do with the shape or design of motor cars but comes from Charlemagne, the name given to Charles I, who was King of the Franks and Roman Emperor (742-814). During one of his battles on behalf of Pope Leo III, Charlemagne became seriously ill with the plague and prayed to God for help in making a recovery. The story says that an angel appeared to Charlemagne; the angel was carrying a bow and some arrows and told the king to fire one of the arrows towards some plants. Whichever plant it landed upon could cure the disease.

Charlemagne did as he was asked and the arrow came to rest on a yellow-flowered thistle which, it was found, could be used to provide an antiseptic. Charlemagne made good use of the antiseptic and was cured; consequently, the thistle was named in his honour, although down the centuries, its name has been corrupted from Charlemagne to carline.

In England, this thistle was used as a kind of weather forecaster, rather like some people use seaweed. It was hung over the doors of homes because the flowers expand in dry weather and close when it is wet.

Another thistle along my route was the cotton thistle with large purple flowers. This grows to a massive height, up to six feet or so (152cm) in some cases and it will produce lots of heads and prickly leaves from its main stem. What makes this thistle distinctive is the whitish cotton-like covering which makes the leaves look a very pale green.

This thistle grows on the Continent too where it is used both as a medicine and as food because its stems can be peeled, boiled and eaten with butter. It was also believed a concoction made from the stem could cure cancer and nervous complaints.

It is this thistle which is sometimes erroneously thought to be the one used as the emblem of Scotland and so it is sometimes called the Scotch thistle. The one which was used in heraldic emblems for the Scottish kings, however, was probably another variety, the spear thistle, which is known for its rather large head. The reason the thistle was selected as the Scottish emblem was because early kings used it in their heraldic displays and this gained a wider appreciation when William Dunbar wrote a poem called The Thistle and the Rose. His work was in celebration of the marriage of James III of Scotland to Princess Margaret of England.

Later, the Order of the Thistle was instituted as a Scottish order of knighthood.

The third thistle along my route was the common field thistle, also known as the creeping thistle. This is widespread throughout Britain and is another persistent weed which causes many problems to farmers although its small purple flowers produce a very sweet scent which attracts lots of butterflies. This thistle does not rely on seeds for its reproduction, however, because it multiplies when its roots creep underground to send up new shoots some distance away from the parent.

Furthermore, the tiniest piece of this root can produce a new plant which is why it is so difficult to eradicate from fields.

The nuisance value of thistles reminds me of a pair of old verses which offer advice about dealing with them. One is linked to the feast day of St John the Baptist, otherwise Midsummer Day, June 24. The verse says: "Cut your thistles before St John, and you'll have two instead of one."

The other verse reminds us of the best times to cut down thistles:

Cut thistles in May, they grow in a day;

Cut thistles in June, that is too soon;

Cut thistles in July, and then they will die.

There was a similar piece of advice linked to St Alban's Day. This is also known as Weeding Day and fell on June 22 - any weeds cut down on that day would not re-appear, provided they had been cut either at full moon or during the afternoon. This is too late for this year but I'm sure ardent gardeners will remember this for 2004!

WHILE on the topic of weeds which belong to the daisy family, one of the most problematic is the ragwort. I've seen it referred to in guides to ramblers when they were told these were ragworts, wonderful golden flowers which added such colour to the countryside. And so they do.

They adorn many of our meadows and produce such a spectacular appearance because they grow higher than the surrounding grass and other plants. With dark green foliage, they produce masses of golden yellow daisy-like flower heads on every plant to create a veritable carpet of deep colour.

In Scotland, the ragwort is known as stinking willie because it produces a very unpleasant smell if the leaves are bruised but for farmers it is a persistent nuisance, and for horses it is lethal.

Although it is claimed some animals will never eat this plant, it is known for causing death to horses and ponies if they eat it over a prolonged period. The reason that most cattle do not die from its effects is because they are usually slaughtered before the poison has had time to act.

I am not sure how many horses and ponies die each year from eating ragwort, for the figures in my records vary between 500 and 1,000, with one report suggesting the figure is far higher, even up to 6,500 per year.

The consumption of ragwort by horses and ponies becomes fatal owing to the long-term cumulative effect of its toxins upon their liver. One friend told me some time ago that horses can become addicted to the weed once they start to eat it.

It is for this reason there are now major new efforts to control ragwort and the Government has launched a code of conduct which offers guidance to all landowners and land occupiers, including local councils and statutory organisations like the railways and waterways authorities. It offers advice on the best way to control the weed. Currently, a draft Bill is also going through the Parliamentary procedures which, it is hoped, will provide a statutory code of practice to help landowners control ragwort.

The Bill is supported by the National Farmers' Union, the British Horse Society and the British Horseracing Board. The Bill is expected to get its second reading in the House of Lords after the summer recess. I wonder if it means the days of ragwort are numbered?

OLD people often utter words of great wisdom based on their long lives, but I loved the following from a gentleman who had reached his 100th birthday. As people were congratulating him, he laughed and said: "You know, if I'd known I was going to live as long as this, I'd have taken better care of myself."