Coming in at just over twenty-two minutes, Flower Days packs a surprising amount into its eight tracks. As with their previous EPs – 2014’s The Boatswain’s Manual and 2020’s How to Read – there’s a distinct theme to the set, and an organic feel completely in keeping with it. Naturally, anyone familiar with either artist’s work will know what to expect here, but those that don’t will be in for a treat, and one with a couple of unexpected left turns at that.

It seems a little pointless picking highlights when the quality is so high and the tracklist so relatively short, but here goes anyway: firstly, the title track is a real beauty that places Whates’ frankly phenomenal vocal front and centre. The arrangement is stunning, with deft finger-picking playing off against gentle horns and a double bass recorded so beautifully you can practically feel the fingers dancing gracefully across the strings. It’s a stunning song that manages to feel as though it’s manipulating time. Elsewhere, the field recordings of birdsong and the like collected from around Ayrshire that ghost in and out of the mix and weave the tracks together are a neat touch, and the instrumental Snowdrop and Tulip, III pieces are a joy. By far the most peculiar track, Chrysanthemum, mixes a gleeful refrain that gives me Bryter Layter vibes with spoken word passages. It’s a surprise, for sure, but one I’m here for. As a side note, there can’t be many songs that feature that particular word either.

The accompanying notes describe the album as one “based around flowers, exploring their quiet persistence and enduring role as carriers of human meaning” and this perhaps crystalises in the gentle swoon of Lily-Rose, where gorgeous instrumentation flourishes around Boulter and Whates’ harmonies.

Closing out the set is the fragile, ethereal Daffodils. It has a loose and fluid feel to it, with layers and textures floating around in space. A scratchy guitar line here, a lingering piano note there. For me, it’s the pick of the bunch, and just when you think it can’t get any better, it takes another of those aforementioned turns into a sing-along outro laced with disembodied voices and subtle discordance, before quite literally taking its leave.

All of the above is a roundabout way of me saying that I liked this a lot. It’s short, sweet, incredibly uplifting, and altogether a fine way of spending twenty-two minutes and eighteen seconds. Despite being recorded over a short spell during the Scottish winter, this is an album of warmth and of celebration. You can find everything you need here.